A Life Less Ordinary
by Sulia Serafine
Summary: Keladry gets thrown into a strange world with the last person she wants to be stranded with: Joren. It's an "ordinary" life when you're trying to go home and not to strangle your only companion.
1. Prologue

A Life Less Ordinary: Prologue

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-10-00. Warning: There's going to be some tough issues and some bad language later on in other chapters. I might as well rate this PG-13 _now_ before someone gets onto me _later_.]

[Keladry of Mindelan eyed her new bed with distrust. Every year on the first she came back, _they_ still found a way to show their resentment. The first time, her whole room had been torn apart, but as the years progressed, they seemed to take subtler means. The first day of her third year being a page, they only messed with her bed so it collapsed when she sat on it. She could still remember how much it hurt to have one of the bedposts hit her in the head. It was much better than the year before that, when they set itching powder in the bed sheets and in her trunk of clothing.

"They wouldn't do _that_ again," she thought. "They never repeat themselves." She sat down on the bed wearily and decided to think of a bright side to her situation. 

This was her last year as a page. And _they_ were all squires, so she did not see them much. Zahir was squire to a knight out in the countryside, so he wasn't around the Palace. The knight to whom Vinson was squire made Vinson do a lot more work than all the other squires, so when Kel did see him, he was too busy to even stop and say some cruel words. And Joren? Unfortunately, he was around and he saw her often. He wouldn't fight her as much as he used to. She had too many allies as it was, but he still casually bumped into her, causing her to spill her food tray, and did other things. Any other boy who despised her for being a girl page eventually chose to accept it-- especially since most of them had become her friends by the end of the first year.

"Hey! Kel," Neal called as he knocked on her door. Thankfully, Neal, her best friend, was still around, although he had less time to hang out since he became a squire. "Kel, are you done yet? Sir David of Renous Bay gave me an hour off, so I thought you and Roald could go walk around with me or something."

"Okay, I'm coming," she called and started for the door. She paused and looked around her room. She wanted to find their small trick. There would _always_ be one and she didn't want to leave the room until she found it and dealt with it.

"Keladry! Come on, there are three Shang warriors visiting my father," Roald's voice now joined Neal's. "I thought you would like to meet them. They've just come from the Yamani islands."

"Think they've met my parents?" she asked as she opened the door and looked calmly at her two squire friends. 

"You can ask. When was the last time you heard from your parents?" Neal questioned as they started walking down the hall. 

"Months. Letters take a long time coming to and from the Yamani islands."

They were at the end of the hall when a scream came from Keladry's room. They ran back at full speed, hearts racing and filled with apprehension. They rushed into the room.

"What happened? What's going on?" Roald cried.

A young servant girl was sitting in a pile of glue and feathers. The door to Keladry's closet was open, and a bucket of glue and feathers hung down from the door frame.

"All I did was open the door, I swear! I'm so sorry!"

Keladry let out a long sigh.

And so, another year began.


	2. Follow the Purple Blur

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 1

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-11-00]

It wasn't until more than half the year was over that Keladry's life would change forever. It was her fourteenth birthday, and everyone was giving her good wishes and small gifts before they were forced back into studying in Merric's room.

"Fourteen. You're going to be a squire soon," Quinden said.

"Well, you're going to be one too," she answered, also eyeing Merric, Seaver, and Esmond.

Quinden nodded, but she had to look up to him. He was the tallest among them now. His height just sprang up one summer and that was that. He patted her on the shoulder and presented her with a small package. She thanked him and opened it, to reveal a new pair of gloves. It was just what she needed. Her old ones were wearing down.

"Enough of this birthday stuff," she said. "Back to mathematics."

"Three years, and this stuff still makes me get a headache," said Seth, a third year page whom Esmond had once sponsored.

"Well, can someone help me with my paper on the history of the Eastern Lands?" another boy asked.

"Sure, I'll help," Seaver said and plopped down beside him at the small table.

It was the things like these that made Keladry glad she was a page. She'd never really had friends like them before, and was glad to be there, despite Wyldon looking over her shoulder and making her prove herself every day.

The next day, Wyldon stopped her before her usual jousting practice with the other senior pages. She was actually the best page at jousting since she'd spent so much time with a weighted lance. It was the one good thing that had _ever_ come from Joren and his cronies. If they hadn't switched a normal lance with the weighted one that first year, she would never have become so good.

"Mindelan! You're dismissed from everything today and tomorrow, since your training and studies are," he paused, "adequate." The word sounded bitter on his tongue. He never wanted to show approval to her. Of course, he never wanted her around as a page, either. "You must ride out to the camp just outside the city to fetch some belongings of the Shang warriors that have just arrived from the Yamani Islands. There are a few knights and squires out there. One squire should be free from his duties long enough to ride back with you. It's dangerous out there, and it will be even more dangerous tomorrow with a storm coming."

"Yes, my Lord," she answered with a slight nod of her head.

"Leave right now, and be careful out in the countryside! There's been talk of tauroses and strange magic sensed by the mages."

"Yes, Lord Wyldon," she nodded again more visibly and rode off to prepare.

It was barely afternoon when she reached the edge of the city. It had taken less time than she thought it would, and she was grateful. Now she could approach the camp outside the city with extra caution. She took Lord Wyldon's warning to heart. Tauroses preyed upon women and girls in particular, and if some form of magic "weirded out" the mages of Tortall (who had seen their fair share of strange oddities with Daine and Numair around), then she had to be concerned.

It was nearly sundown. After few minutes of trotting with her mare around trees and hills, she spotted the camp in the distance. 

"I've made it this far without getting into trouble. Must be my lucky day," she thought.

~~~

He watched her sigh in relief as she spotted the camp. She didn't see him, nor would she until it was too late. The young man eyed the stubborn looking mare she was riding. What had happened to that old grouchy gelding she had? Hopefully, _this one_ didn't kick so quickly either. He remembered the last time he tried to sneak up on the girl before while she was mounted. A horse's back hooves in his stomach hadn't been the greatest feeling in the world.

He crept toward her, not directly behind her so the horse could nail him, but not so she could see him either. He made sure to watch out for twigs under his feet that could make noise. 

He was right beside her when he took a deep breath, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "LUMP!"

~~~

She cried out in surprise, and immediately cursed herself afterwards. She nearly turned all the way around in her saddle to look at the young man. Her expression immediately became stone. This wasn't her lucky day after all.

Joren of Stone Mountain folded his arms and sneered at her. "Well, if it isn't the Lump. Fancy meeting you here. If I were an enemy from some hostile country, I could've killed you by now."

Keladry nearly blushed at the humiliation. Of all people, why did _he_ have to be out here? "I came to fetch the belongings of the Shang Warriors at the Palace. Lord Wyldon told me they were here with the other knights."

He nodded. "Right. Why would the Stump send a loser like you? Gods know you'd only foul up the job." He turned on his heel and began walking toward the camp. "You'd better leave the job to me, _girl_. Go home. _Shoo_."

She inwardly fumed at his insults, then calmed down. She had to be like stone-- no emotion and no feeling. She would not sink to Joren's level. Even though yelling a witty retort would probably make her feel a whole lot better.

" What are _you_ doing out here?" she called to him as she goaded her horse to catch up to him.

"I was collecting firewood until I heard you coming around the grove of trees," he said, glancing at her with disfavor and keeping his head held high. "You're welcome to finish my tasks while I ride back into the city with the Shangs' things."

"No way," she replied. "That's _my_ job." She remembered Lord Wyldon's words. A squire had to come back with her to help. She glared at Joren. He definitely wasn't going to be it. They would kill each other before they reached the Palace. And as much as it appealed to her (getting into a brawl with Joren was much better than getting glares from Lord Wyldon. It was like Neal once told her: she loved to fight), she decided it probably wouldn't happen.

They reached the camp in silence. Keladry dismounted and led her mare over to a servant to take care of. A knight, obvious by his clothing and armor, came up to her. His beard had gray streaks through it and there were laugh wrinkles by his eyes.

"Yes, page? What is it?"

"I was sent by Lord Wyldon to retrieve the Shang--"

"Oh, yes. It just arrived from the coast, and I'm glad I don't have to ride all the way back to the palace. It's dark now. You'll stay the night and leave in the morning with my squire to help you. That's what Wyldon said, right?"

"…Yes, Sir," Keladry replied, wondering how he could guess Lord Wyldon's orders.

"Then my squire will accompany you and bring the rest of the stuff on his horse." He gestured to Joren, who immediately turned away to hide his malice.

Keladry tried not to wince at the knight's words. So, she and Joren were going to kill each other after all. "Yes, Sir."

"Hmm… You're that girl page, right?" the knight looked her over.

"Well, yes, my being a girl is obvious, isn't it?" she thought sarcastically. Aloud, she answered, "Yes, Sir." Her sarcasm had grown ever since she had started hanging around Neal. 

She spent the night staring up at the stars. They had her bed roll spread out beside one of the more elderly knights, a fatherly one, because they didn't trust their squires around her. 

"It could be worse," she thought. "I could be surrounded by a whole bunch of hateful squires who wanted to throw me in the river. Most of these squires are disciplined enough to tolerate me kindly. Too bad Joren is here." She turned onto her side, and swept her long brown hair from her face. She had no idea why she let it grow long. It only complicated things, but she guessed she liked it. It also reminded everyone that yes, she was a girl page, and there was no changing that.

Dwelling on these thoughts, she fell asleep to the sound of the wind rustling the trees.

~~~

"Hey, Lump, hurry up! Let's get this over with," Joren yelled over his shoulder as he set his horse to a trot. Keladry rolled her eyes and caught up to him, staying slightly behind. 

They rode in silence. She was surprised he hadn't thrown insults at her yet. She watched the birds flying overhead, letting herself forget he was there. The sky was gray. It was going to rain very soon. The air was already cold and the ground damp. She wished for a thicker jerkin to wear. Hers was thin enough as it was.

"Hey, did you see that?" Joren suddenly exclaimed. "Off to the right."

"I didn't see anything," she replied.

He snorted. "I suppose you wouldn't." He dismounted from his horse and checked his sword. "I'm going to check it out. You stay here, _lump_."

"I don't think so," she said and also got down from her horse. She reached for her belt knife and was conscious of the dagger she kept in her boot when riding out to the countryside. Joren waited for her impatiently before continuing to move on through the bushes and around the trees.

"Better not be a tauros," he whispered, more to himself than her. "Stay down so you don't get your fragile little self hurt, Lump."

"Don't tell me what to do," she whispered back in annoyance. He was really pushing it today. Keladry usually didn't let it show in her voice.

"Hey! Who has seniority, here?" he glared at her before pulling his sword halfway out of his sheath. He moved forward and licked his lips in anticipation of combat.

A white rabbit ran from the bushes and ran between his legs. Joren looked down, surprised.

"What the…"

A large, hairy, and purple beast ran after the rabbit, also between his legs. Joren's foot caught on the animal and he got flipped face first into the dirt and mud. Keladry would have laughed and gloated silently at this, but she was looking after the strange creature running away.

"What _is_ that?" she wondered.

"I don't know, but it's going to wish it was never born!" Joren exclaimed and scrambled to his feet. He drew his sword all the way out of its sheath. Keladry tried to grab his arm, but caught a handful of air as he ran after the purple beast. She cursed his stubborn and hot temper after him.

It looked like a cross between a dog and some sort of bear. But, it was fast. The purple blur was out of her sight range. The young page could only see the tall white-blonde boy running in front of her. Keladry shoved at the low tree branches that threatened to hit her in the face as she ran past. She called to Joren.

"Stop! We don't even know what it is! What if there are more?"

"Well, then we'll find out!" he yelled back, agitated as he lost track of the beast. He stopped abruptly and held his sword ready. His head whipped around to face her. "I would've caught it if you hadn't distracted me with your stupid talking."

"Distracted!" she repeated in disbelief. "I didn't distract you. Well, perhaps it was better I did rather than a squire of Tortall make a fool of himself over something so stupid."

Joren was caught off guard for a moment. Usually, Keladry didn't involve herself in verbal arguments without including the words "this is wrong". Most of the time, she settled for a fight rather than a verbal argument. He regained his senses and retorted.

"Well, I guess you would know what it feels like to be a fool over something stupid. After all, you just _loved_ to climb that chestnut tree--"

Keladry held back the urge to punch him and took a deep breath. 

"Stone," she whispered to herself. Then she said a little louder, "Let's get back to the path. There's no point in staying if we've lost--" Her words trailed off as she looked up at something moving in the branches of a tree. Joren followed her gaze and raised his sword again.

The purple bear/dog thrust it's head forward from the foliage and snorted at them. "You scared off the white rabbit and now I won't have any dinner. That is the most annoying thing anyone has done to me in a while. For that, I think I'll take you back home with me."

If it were possible for jaws to hit the ground in shock, then theirs would have. But, alas, they weren't cartoon characters and merely gaped at the strange creature as it started singing in an off-pitch voice. Then singing became so bad that the birds flew out of the tree and other forest animals sought cover. The two humans covered their ears in vein, for the sound was shaking the ground.

In fact, the ground ripped open beneath them as quickly as a cloth ripped by a sewing woman. Keladry lost her footing and fell backward, hitting her head on a rock. Joren tried to keep a grip on his sword, but it fell from his hands. As he reached for the falling weapon, he fell towards the unconscious girl page.

And they fell into the darkness below.

The purple thing chuckled as he finished his destructive song. "Heheh…" He jumped out of the tree and started calmly climbing down into the hole in the Earth he created. "Now I feel _so_ much better…"


	3. Welcome to Freilan

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 2

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-11-00]

"Oof! Get off, you're crushing me! Who would've thought a girl could _weigh_ so much!" Joren exclaimed.

Keladry growled. "I'm not anywhere near you. What are you talking about?"

It was pitch black wherever they had landed and neither of them could see a thing.

Joren shifted around. He was definitely sure whatever was on him was _living_…

"Oh, Gods…" he murmured with a certain nervousness in his voice.

Keladry crawled toward his voice, feeling around. She touched his hair. "Stay still and keep quiet."

"Well, duh, I'm not dumb," he snapped and let out a deep breath. He whispered, "Just _what_ is on top of me?"

Keladry tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness. When they finally did, she gulped. Joren sensed her action.

"What?" he whispered fiercely. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "All you need to know is that this is all _your_ fault. I told you not to chase after it."

"Could you stop being self-righteous for _one_ damn minute?!" he yelled. Then he gasped. The thing on top of him stirred and he distinctly heard a yawn from somewhere around him.

In fact, yawns came from everywhere around the two Tortallians. Keladry and Joren paled, but neither of them noticed in the darkness. They _did_ notice the bright yellow eyes opening in the darkness. 

"…Uh…"

"….Uh…"

~A few seconds later~

"_AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_!" the two humans screamed as they ran out of the cave. A bear looking animal with bigger ears and larger, sharper paws sat back on its haunches and watched them run with confused eyes.

"What in the world was that?" Joren yelled. "Where are we?"

"How am I supposed to now?" Keladry yelled back. Her heart was racing. Joren wrinkled his nose at her.

"Great. I'm stuck with the lump in who-knows-where, without my sword-- without anything! Even a clue!" He threw up his hands and started cursing to himself. Keladry calmly folded her arms and took a look around them. As far as she was concerned, the countryside around them looked a lot like Tortall. Yet she knew it wasn't Tortall.

"The fall into the Earth pretty much proves that," she murmured to herself. She tried to grab onto some sanity and checked her belt knife and the pouches at her waist. She had venison in one pouch, just for emergency. "Thank the Goddess," she whispered. "Joren, what do you have?"

"Enough money for food and a water-skin. My belt knife got ripped off in the cave back there and my sword was lost in the fall." He patted his sides. "And maybe a match or two. I don't know. I suppose you don't have anything useful, you being a _girl_ and all, probably packed some girly things."

She once again suppressed the urge to hit him and cooly replied, "I have some venison to last today and maybe tomorrow morning if we ration it, then some flint, my dagger and belt knife."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "What do you know. The Lump might actually survive," he scoffed and started walking off aimlessly. She went after him. 

"Do you even know where you're going?"

"No. Why, do _you_?" he laughed derisively.

"We fell into a hole in the ground because you wanted to chase a purple furball. Does it look like either of us has any sanity left to know where to walk?" she replied in a monotone voice.

Joren smirked, and glanced back at her. "What do you know. The little girl can make a joke."

Keladry stopped in her tracks. He realized she wasn't following him anymore and turned around. "What?"

"You would think after four years, you would just accept the fact," she said rubbing the side of her head where it had struck the rock. She shook her head and glared at him, keeping her expression cold and unmoved by emotion. "I'm not going to quit. I'm not going to be driven out. I'm going to train and earn my way to knighthood just like you and any other boy, and there's no changing that. Stop making it so hard." She winced when she felt blood trickling from her scalp where the rock had hit. "This isn't some kind of war we're fighting. It's not girls versus boys. It's just equality."

Joren looked at her with a rather bored expression. "Are you _done_ now?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother?"  
They started walking again, a healthy distance from one another. After an hour, it started to get dark. Fortunately for them, they could see a town up ahead. They hastened their pace and made it before it got too dark out to see.

A few men were hanging lanterns on tall poles with the use of long sticks with a hook at top to hold the lanterns. The light spread over the town, so many people still lingered outside. Most of them were neighbors talking to one another and groups of friends. The merchants had already closed up their stalls and shops. Those doors were locked and bolted, while the taverns and inns were open to all.

A plump, but cheery looking woman stepped in front of the two teenagers. Her cheeks were pink and rosy, and her apron was crisp and pressed. "Now, what are two youngin's like you doing out here by yourselves? I swear I know every child in this whole town and I have _never_ seen you before."

"We fell--" Keladry started to explain their story. The woman looked kindly enough, and Keladry abhorred lying. Joren swiftly kicked her foot. She stifled a cry of pain and annoyance as Joren stepped up to the woman with a charmingly fake smile.

"We're passing through, m'am. Unfortunately, our map got lost in the woods and some beasts scared off our horses." His expression fell appropriately according to his words. "Could you tell us where we are? You have been so _kind_ to even talk to us strangers."

Keladry gaped at him. The woman however, laughed heartily and pinched Joren's cheek. He smiled politely, although he glared at her as soon as she turned and called out to a tall thin man standing at the door of a tavern. "Jodus! Look at these youngin's! Aren't they precious, charming children? Unlike you! Haha!" 

"I would hardly consider myself a child," Joren said through gritted teeth, but too quiet for her to hear.

"Well!" The woman turned back to them. She put her hands at her hips, arms akimbo. "You're in Freilan Town! What are you, brother and sister?" She leaned forward with widened twinkling eyes.

Keladry looked over at Joren with disgust. "Joren? My brother?!" she thought.

"Cousins," Joren said with a wide (but fake) grin. He chuckled softly. "Ugh," he thought. "Cousins is bad enough."

"Why, you must be from one of those rough working families," the woman went on. "Your little cousin wearing _pants_ and all." She eyed Keladry sympathetically. "Don't worry, though. You poor things. You can stay in my tavern with me and Jodus tonight, provided you can put up with our rowdy customers!" She laughed again, happy and cheerful. She motioned for them to follow her inside. "Come on, now. I'll let you have a nice warm meal and you could tell me about yourselves! I just love meeting new people!"

"Thank you for your hospitality," Keladry said. She elbowed Joren in the ribs as soon as they were inside in the loud bustling tavern so she couldn't see. She glared at him. "What are you thinking, huh?"

"What?" Joren elbowed her right back. "You want to tell her we just fell into a huge whole in the ground after some purple dog thing talked to us? We'll sound like we're mad! Now, just do as I say."

"I won't lie," she said sternly.

"Who says you have to? Just let them come to their own conclusions."

She folded her arms. "I always knew you were deceitful and sneaky, but to be so… so comfortable with it! What kind of knight would you _be_?"  
He waved her off and started following the woman again. They sat down at a table stall where the woman was bringing some warm bread and soup. "Here you go. By the way, I'm Ida Leafson and that's my husband Jodus," she pointed to the tall thin man serving drinks at the bar. "Now, you just stay here and eat all of this right up. And don't you worry about everybody around you. They're all rowdy alike, but they're harmless. Well all love a little dancin' and nippin' before midnight! Haha! And if some mean person does bother ya, tell 'em Ida is going to quit their tab!" She started laughing and walked away to tend to other people.

They ate in silence, watching all the people around them. Young lovers sneaking kisses in the corners and other couples dancing in the big space between the bar and the table stalls. And a few men having drinks and getting harmlessly drunk. Another man, with a snowy white beard and a pipe was telling some adventuresome story to a group of men, because he swung about his cane in quick movements to emphasize his actions. Keladry smiled. She'd never been to a tavern before, although she was quite sure that the taverns in Tortall couldn't possibly be as lively as this little place in who-knows-where.

"I would hardly call myself a child," Joren said to himself, finishing his soup and glancing around at the beautiful girls around him. He wanted to get up and pick out one for himself. He was seventeen, after all, and they looked not more than two years older than him. Keladry yawned. She shook her head and called his attention.

"What are we going to do? There's no such place called Freilan so far as _I_ know. And although these people could pass for Tortallians, they just _aren't_. That's plain enough. And they can't be Tyrans or… or Gallians or Carthakians…" She paused. "It's like we've been thrown in a different world."

Joren reluctantly ceased his observation of beauties and looked back at her. "We've gone insane. It's as simple as that. And if you'll excuse me, Lump, I'm going to join my madness." He stood up and caught the eye of a girl with curly blond hair. "Besides, what else can we do? Tell them we're from the Palace of Tortall and expect them to believe us? I say we just take the free food and beds from Ida and Jodus for tonight and just see what happens tomorrow. We're bound to figure out a way home eventually."

"How can you be so… so _calm_?" she asked, irritated.

"How can you be so rigid?" he retorted and took the curly blonde with him to the circle of dancers and musicians. 

Keladry groaned and leaned back. "All I ever wanted was to become a warrior… And prove myself to everyone. What did I ever do to deserve this? Stuck with _Joren_ of all people in a strange land with weird animals…" She folded her arms. "I'm going to find that purple furball and make it send us back."

She let out a deep sigh and settled in a comfortable position to spend the rest of her knight watching the people around her. She could hear the stories of the men at the bar and the conversations of neighbors about their harvests and their children's weddings. It was almost like any Tortallian tavern. 

But it wasn't.


	4. Getting a Sense of Direction

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 3

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-12-00]

Keladry yawned. She unconsciously stretched against the hard wood seat that she had fallen asleep on. The light peeked in through the tavern window and fell upon her face. With the sudden presence of warmth and light, Keladry opened her eyes slowly and tried to focus them. 

"What… Where am I?" she asked quietly and sat up. Then all the events from yesterday came back to her in one big flood of memories. She groaned and put her head in her hands. "No… It's real. I'm in Freilan with Joren."

Her head snapped up at the thought. "Where _is_ Joren?!" She clumsily got to her feet and ignored her stiff joints and muscles. "Ida? Miss Ida? Mister Jodus?" She hoped they could tell her where Joren was. "Miss Ida!"

Ida Leafson was busily cooking in the kitchen. When she heard Keladry's call, she walked in, humming a fancy tune. "How can I help you, dear? Are you hungry?"  
"I was wondering where," she paused before saying the next few words, "my _cousin_ is. Joren?"

"Hmm… I do believe he went off courting Marilyn, the Miller's daughter, last night."

Keladry rolled her eyes and muttered. "That figures. But wouldn't he be back by now unless he--" She stopped and would've slapped her forehead, but she smiled apologetically instead. "Never mind. Thank you, Miss Ida."

"Now, sit yourself back down and I'll bring you some food." She walked over and poked Keladry's arm through her thin jacket. "Just what I thought! Skinny and underfed. You need some good old fashioned cooking!"

"No, really, I've always eaten enough--" Keladry protested. Ida waved her off and went back into the kitchen. The senior page sighed and sat back down again. "Maybe Ida can tell me about the animals around here. There has to be purple dog-bear creatures. We definitely didn't dream it all up." 

After breakfast, Ida showed Keladry where the washroom was and gave her a spare jacket.

"You look cold, anyhow."

"Thank you, so much. You've shown Joren and me so much hospitality," Keladry said and moved to bow, and then caught herself. She awkwardly curtsied.

"The dear thing curtsies!" Ida exclaimed with pink cheeks and a wide smile. "Why, what I wouldn't give to keep you here with me and Jodus forever, dear child!"

"You don't know how much that idea appeals to me," Keladry replied, adding silently, "Compared to wandering around a strange land forever." She cleared her throat. "Miss Ida, have you ever seen a purple creature that looks like a cross between a bear and a dog?"

Miss Ida burst into laughter. "What an imagination you have! But aren't you too old to be imagining things?"

Keladry blinked. "Ah…heheh…yeah. Please excuse my ridiculous question."

"Not at all, deary. I used to have the _same_ imagination."

Keladry faked a polite smile and looked out the door. "Is there a Lord or a Duke near Freilan? I'm unfamiliar with this area."

"Well, yes there is a keep near here, toward the sea," Ida's expression became serious. "But I wouldn't go there if I were you. Baron Renimeo is very… eccentric. We all humor him when he comes into town, and he's been capable of producing obedient and successful children, but he's just such a strange old man. His soldiers are the best in the surrounding towns and manors, though. Your cousin Joren might be interested in joining."

"Did somebody say my name?" Joren asked as he walked in through the door. He tried to smooth down his messy hair and tied it back in a ponytail. "Sorry I was gone the whole night. I was…"

"Don't bother," Keladry said as she sat down. Ida burst into another round of laughter.

"So, what are you two doing today? I assume before you move onto the next town, you might want to get another map and earn some more money," Ida suggested. "Unfortunately, I can't think of any place to get horses for free." She laughed at her own joke. 

"We appreciate it all the same," Joren replied, faking his own laughter. Keladry shook her head.

"Go down to Bostwick's General Store. It's that place with the bright green door." Ida reached into her pocket. "Here, take some money and buy yourselves some useful things for your journey."

"We can't take this money," Keladry protested.

"Yes we can," Joren muttered to her as he elbowed her aside and met Ida with another fake smile. "You don't know what this means to my cousin and me. We'll keep you in our prayers, always."

"I can't believe this," Keladry mumbled as the two walked to the place with the bright green door. Two girls carrying baskets of vegetables walked by, winking and blowing kisses to Joren. Keladry nearly gagged.

"Hello, ladies," Joren waved with some winks of his own. "Fair you well, I'm going to leave town tonight."

"Aw…" they said in unison. Keladry nearly gagged some more.

"I'll always keep your beauty in my thoughts," he grinned and walked away whistling. Keladry shook her head some more and jogged to catch up with him. 

"Are you going to be serious about us getting home now, or what?" Keladry asked, slightly peeved.

"Don't worry. I want to go home, just like you, Lump," he replied coolly.

"Stop calling me that. Four years-- _four_-- and it still hasn't dropped," she said.

"Ah, don't take it so personally, Lump. Have a sense of humor. So, what has Ida told you about this land?"

"Well, purple furballs like we saw aren't common. She thinks I made it up."

"And?" His voice lowered as they entered Bostwick's store and smiled politely at the man at the counter. 

"There's a keep not too far from here, towards the sea. It's owned by Baron Renimeo, who Ida has told me is eccentric, but he has the best soldiers around and sane, successful children. Want to head there? Maybe there's mage or a philosopher, or… a priest that can help us."

Joren nodded thoughtfully. "Good thinking, Lump. If that old man is eccentric, then he won't be hostile toward our question of a purple dog-bear creature.

He picked up and examined some waterskins. "Go pick out some rations for the road. And be sensible about it!" 

"I know what I'm doing," she snapped and went over to the opposite shelf. 

They bought some supplies and went back to the tavern. They spent the day packing things provided by Ida. Keladry couldn't stop thanking the kind woman and her husband, but they just encouraged them to come back and visit.

"One day, you're going to have to move back to this town so I can see you _every_ day!" Ida grinned. "Such precious things, you both are."

"Now, the keep isn't much more than an hour's slow ride from here, so you can reach it before it gets too dark."

"Are you sure you want to enlist with Baron Renimeo?" Jodus asked.

"You did say you could enlist and be accepted on first meeting with the baron, didn't you?" Joren said.

"Well, yes, but what about your little cousin?"

"I'm sure I can convince the baron he's in need of a new serving maid," he smiled.

"Hmph," Keladry folded her arms. "I don't think so."

"Well, you two better take care. There has been talk of raiders from the Mira Empire across the sea. And the Raven's Keep is in as much as danger as any place along the coast. Even Freilan isn't safe." Jodus looked them both straight in the eye and sat back with a serious expression.

Keladry bowed her head. "We'll be careful, sir."

That afternoon, they left Freilan for Raven's Keep. 

The purple dog-bear animal watched them amusedly from his favorite tree. "Perhaps they will be of use to me one day. But not now. Go, live, you stupid humans. You're just a bunch of toys for me to play with." His stomach grumbled. "I really wished I had caught that stupid rabbit."


	5. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 4

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 4

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-12-00

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

"Is that _fire_?" Joren pointed to the smoke rising from past the trees. They had been traveling for an hour, and Raven's Keep was not that far away. "It is fire. Do you think that the keep--"

"There's only one way to find out," Keladry shrugged as they started to run.

"I wish I had my sword."

"What good would a sword do? The place is burning."

He glanced at her, annoyed. "It's obvious that these are raiders from the empire that Ida was talking about and they have just set fire to Raven's Keep."

"We're not sure of that, yet! Don't go rushing in without a plan," she argued as they neared the large stone walls and towers. The whole keep was crawling with flames. People leapt from the battlements and ran through the open gates. Men in black and blue armor battled with knights, or those similarly dressed, while others set fire to more structures and looted the keep. A man in a bright yellow tunic called to the fleeing people and called to more soldiers wearing yellow crests. They hid in the bushes and watched the battle with wide eyes.

"As long as I, Baron Renimeo, stand, I will _not_ let you take Raven's Keep! Fight, men! To the bitter end! Drive out these Miran scum!"

"We have to fight," Joren insisted impatiently. "I have to find a weapon…"

"Fight? We don't even know half these people," she said. Keladry leaned forward and looked at each side of soldiers. 

He turned to her and yanked her back into the shrubs. "Well, fine. Girls shouldn't fight anyway. You stay here and _I_'ll fight."

"They might think you're one of the raiders," she pointed out, trying not to let the insult about girls fighting get to her.

"Oh, well, I don't think you're raiders," a deep threatening voice said from behind them.

Before either of them could turn around, two other men grabbed them. Keladry immediately went into self-defense and moved to toss one over her shoulder, but the Miran Raider kicked her legs out from under her. Joren managed to escape the man's lunge and threw a punch at the man's jaw. His fist connected with flesh, but another fist lodged itself in Joren's midsection. All the wind being knocked out of him, he doubled over and collapsed onto the ground. Keladry's arms were pinned behind her back, and she couldn't reach her dagger.

"Let me go! Hey!" she thrashed and tried to free herself, but they already tore off her jacket sleeves and used them to tie up her wrists and ankles. The men laughed at her attempts. "I'll wipe those smiles off their faces," she swore silently and stopped moving. Joren, coughed and growled at the man who was holding him down while another punched. 

"What, boy, I, dare you! Try to fight back. Come on! It'll be fun," the man punching Joren taunted.

"You son of a whore!" Joren yelled back. He cried out in agony as he was punched in the face. It was an explosion of pain. Every single little part of his nose and his cheekbone screamed fire and hurt.

"Leave him alone," Keladry threatened in a low voice-- not that she didn't mind seeing Joren get a taste of his own medicine, but these barbarians were a little bit over the top.

Amidst the stars in his vision, Joren replied, "I don't need your help!"

"Haha! They're a spirited pair of kids, aren't they, Tusca?" the man holding back Joren said. The tall and thick man holding Keladry down agreed. 

"I say we take them back with us. They might provide some good entertainment. And when we get back to the West Continent, we can put them to work as slaves!"

"No!" Keladry cried. He slapped her across the face. 

"Shut up, girl! Take them back to the ship, Tusca. You, too, Xargo."

"I'm going, I'm going," the other man holding Joren said. Tusca grabbed a fistful of Keladry's hair and yanked her to her feet. She gritted her teeth and bore it. Her eyes were open for any chance of escape.

As they were dragged to the raiders' horses, Keladry whispered to Joren. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he hissed. "I don't need your damn concern."

"I was trying to be nice," she muttered back. Tusca yanked her hair again.

"Shut up, you! I'll cut out your tongue, if it'll silence you. Maybe I should just put you in a Miran whorehouse and see how you like it." He leaned toward her face. "And I'd visit you fresh young thing _every_ day… or should I say night?"  
Keladry spat in his face. He backhanded her viciously and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

"Try that again, missy, I dare you."

Keladry spat out blood from her split lip and remained silent. Joren seethed with fury, but he knew better than to rush into an obviously uneven fight. He looked behind him, to where Raven's Keep was now collapsing in on itself. The screams and cries of the dying and those burning alive echoed in his ears. It would haunt him for nights. 

Hours later, the raiders were back at the beach, loading their spoils into the cargo holds of their ships. 

Keladry and Joren were thrown into the cargo hold. Xargo towered over them. "Don't even try to escape. We'll kill you _slowly_ and _painfully_, and you'll wish you were never born."

He stomped back to the deck and slammed the hatch, leaving the two Tortallians in darkness except for a tiny beam of light from a halfway closed porthole. Joren laid down on his back, nursing his wounds quietly. Keladry leaned against the side of the hull and closed her eyes.

"How are we going to get out of this one?" she asked with a little bit of hopelessness.

"Does it look like I know?" he croaked from the floor. Then he sighed and shook his head. "And I guess, we now have other things to worry about besides that purple furball."

Keladry folded her arms and tried to get into a comfortable position. "If they take us to this West Continent, we'll be farther away from where we landed. Farther away from… from the furball. And we won't be able to get home."

Joren muttered a curse and peered through the darkness at her shadowy form. "That would mean I'd be stuck here forever, with _you_. It doesn't get any worse, does it?"

"Oh, please. You're not the only one suffering here," she retorted. 

"Assuming that we are taken back to this West Continent they mention and we haven't died from starvation or abuse before then," Joren began, "How do we escape these raiders?"

"I don't know. I just…" Keladry shook her head and sighed. 

They listened to the noises above. Men laughing. Heavy footsteps on the wooden boards and planks. Keladry pulled her knees up to her chest and very slowly fell asleep. Joren stayed up the whole night, staring at the space above him. He was busy formulating a plan.

~A few days later~

"I'm starving," Keladry thought as she looked out the porthole. During the day, the Miran raiders let them out onto the deck to do menial labor, or just to play with her-- "play" meaning her dodging all their disgusting attempts to get down her pants. Joren always refused their commands and orders, showing them he wouldn't bow down. They liked his spirit. But Joren would never intervene for her. He just pretended he never saw her getting grabbed in the rear by some farting, black-toothed barbarian.

"A big help he is," she muttered. "Who am I kidding? This is Joren. And I don't want nor need his help."

"What are you mumbling, Lump?" Joren called as he came back from swabbing the deck. 

"Nothing," she answered and toyed with her wrist restraints. They made the two Tortallians where them so if they decided to rebel, it was easier to control them.

"How long until we reach the West Continent of this world?" she asked him after a few moments of silence.

"I heard them say it would be maybe tomorrow. I couldn't hear them well. I was eavesdropping through the wall of the cabin."

"You have a plan?" 

"Working on it."

She nodded and turned away when a Miran came to watch them. Joren went down below to avoid being called to more work.

The day after, they reached the West Continent. Keladry and Joren were in their usual place in the cargo hold. She tapped him on the shoulder.

"You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Just do as I say, Lump, and we'll be fine."

"Lump? Can't you think of something new or is your head to thick for such a challenging task?" she said wittily and smirked to herself when she saw his response.

"Challenging task? Challenging task, oh you should talk. Tell me Keladry, how hard is it to climb a small chestnut tree when all you do is quit after the second branch and go vomit in the bushes, hmm?" He glared at her spitefully and started toward the hatch to the deck above. "Get ready. We're going to make a run for it when I say."

"Yes, Joren, when you say. Just like when you said to chase after that purple _thing_," she nearly hissed. She couldn't help it. There were only so many people that could annoy her that well. She was ashamed of it more than anything. What Yamani warriors let _words _get to them? 

Joren made a loud and noisy exit, slamming the hatch behind him. She impulsively kicked the short step ladder under it and hoped he heard. After a few deep breaths, she calmed down and started to prepare their departure. She gathered some food (saved from the rotten leftovers given to them by the Mirans) into a few small bags and secured them under her shirt. Keladry reached for her jacket. While she put it on, she also took into thought her belt knife and dagger. The Miran raiders had taken both away from her, so she had nothing with which to fight with. "Joren better have something planned for that, too."

~

"Get ready. We're coming into port," one man shoved Joren aside as he passed. "Don't try anything, boy. You're going to love living in Mira."

"Is this Mira?" Joren asked nonchalantly.

"Gods, no! What's wrong with you, boy? Mira is on the far west of the continent. We're in Lon Falas. Now get out of the way!"

Joren stepped further away from the walkway of raiders and deck hands. He smiled inwardly as he took a spot near the anchor. From across the deck, he could see Keladry get up from the cargo hold. She glared at him before moving to a spot not too far from him, against the starboard rail. 

They pulled into port. Soon, the whole ship was swarming with busy men trying to unload as quickly as possible. From the casual looks of the sailors already on the docks of Lon Falas, Keladry guessed that either Mira and Lon Falas had a treaty or that they simply did not know that the ship was a pirating, pillaging one. Joren and Keladry were promptly ushered off the boat and set to work. Xargo was put in charge of the two Tortallians. 

"Come on, you two. Time to put you to work. Pick up those bags and follow me."

"He's smart to turn his back on us," Joren muttered to her.

"We're surrounded. It would be dumb of us to do anything," she whispered back.

"Oh, really?"

He hefted the bag over his shoulder and followed Xargo down the plank and onto the dock.

"He thinks he has it planned out. It would appear as so," she tried convincing herself. Keladry narrowed her eyes. "Oh, Gods help us. He has _no_ idea of what he's doing."

~~

Author: I'd like to say thanks for all the R&R! Comments, suggestions, criticisms, ANYTHING, just send it my way. Hey-- it's all for the readers.


	6. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 5

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 5

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-14-00

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

__

"We're surrounded. It would be dumb of us to do anything."

"Oh, really?"

Joren heard Keladry say something to herself as he followed Xargo to the carts and wagons where they were loading. He ignored her and focused at the task at hand. Xargo wasn't even looking at them. It was too perfect. 

"He really _is_ too smart to turn his back on us. I should thank him," Joren thought.

A few minutes later, as they made their second trip from the ship, Joren looked around. They were many of the Mirans walking back and forth around them. This would be fine for what he planned. He tripped forward on purpose, hoping it looked fake enough. He slammed into Xargo, who was shoved forward. He fell. 

"Why, you little…"

All the men stared at Xargo. It wasn't because he fell thanks to Joren, but because gold coins and jewels started to fall out of his shirt. Joren folded his arms in satisfaction. "See! Your own man tried to steal from you!"

The reaction was instant. The other Mirans gathered around Xargo, towering over him with menace. "You back-stabber. What do you think you're doing?"

"I say we kill him!"

"Yeah!"

Another man who looked a little more civilized than the rest came up to Joren and clamped a hand on his shoulder. Keladry gaped at the sight. "No way…"

"Hmm… That's a good thing you did for us, boy." He examined him with his one good eye. "Perhaps you'd like to take Xargo's place now that he's going to be _leaving us_. Recovering our precious haul from him is worth granting loyalty to. So, would you like to be a Scourge of Miran?"

The squire smiled at him. "Why, that would be an honor to me, sir."

Keladry's mouth dropped open. "W-what?"

"We'll have to send away this girl of yours," the man continued, eyeing Keladry with distrust.

"That's no problem with me."

"Joren!"

"Oh, fine," he rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath. "Sir, I'd really like it if she stayed. Maybe as a serving wench."

"Wench??" Keladry seethed. 

"Maybe," the man replied. They continued talking, ignoring her large display of anger. "She'll stay with _you_ of course, and you'll be responsible for her. And by the way, it's brotherly to share your possessions." He flashed a crooked smile at her.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she said. 

"You're not the only one," Joren muttered.

While this went on, Xargo was bound and tied by his former crewmates and being humiliated as they dragged him away. The large crowd of men moved off the docks, then down the road as they went to tie him up and leave him hanging by the feet for all to see.

That night, they stayed on land at a third rate inn. Most of the men stayed up, getting drunk and partying. Joren and Keladry stayed off to the side. Every now and then, a man would come up to them either to coax Joren to get drunk or to make a grab at Keladry. They held off from all these attempts.

"How did you know he was embezzling all that money?" she asked him. She didn't bother whispering since it was too loud in the inn.

"I didn't," Joren replied and rested his head back against the wall. A man crashed to the floor in front of them. For a few seconds, they stared at him, then went back to their conversation.

"What do you mean, you didn't? You just bumped into him and hoped for the best?" 

He bit his lower lip to stifle his urge for laughter. "Um, hoping for the best was _part_ of it…"

"I'm going to regret knowing this, aren't I?" she said in angry tone.

"Okay, okay!" He started laughing, his cheeks becoming pink. "I planted the money on him."

"Don't be mad. Get calm. Don't show your emotion," she thought to herself. After a deep breath, she turned to him and just stared.

"Stop staring at me like that! I did what I had to do!" he argued.

She shook her head. "And a fine thing you did," she said sarcastically. "Once again, you surprise me with your less than valiant behavior. But then again, this is _you_."

He grabbed her by the wrist. She didn't bother to tug back. "Hey," he said through clenched teeth. "Being valiant and knightly isn't going to help us right now. It will do the opposite. We are alive and well, be thankful."

Another man tripped over the fallen one in front of them and started to puke.

"Yes, alive, but not quite well. That's disgusting." Keladry wrinkled her nose and turned away. Joren did the same. 

"For once, I agree. Let's get some fresh air," he suggested and stood up.

They picked up their bags and walked outside. No one stood in their way. But, a few men _did _whistle at Keladry. "Psst… Byron, look at that. The boy is having the _best kind o' fun_ at his age. Lucky little punk."

Joren was about to stalk right up to the man and punch him. Keladry grabbed his wrist this time and dragged him out the door. She pulled him into the shadows of the alley.

"I'm not going to let him get away with that!" Joren said, still trying to get back inside. Keladry planted her feet solidly in the ground and anchored him down.

"Stop being so hard-headed!"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

Keladry closed her eyes. "I refuse to argue with you so childishly."

He stopped leaning toward the inn and yanked his hand away. Grouchily, he folded his arms and leaned on the side of the tavern. The blond squire kicked his bag. "So what now?"

Keladry looked into the tavern's window at all the drunken men. She frowned. "You know, it would be so easy for us to walk away. They wouldn't even know it until tomorrow afternoon when they woke up with hangovers."

"We're bound to get caught," Joren pointed out.  
" Get caught by whom? They're all in a drunken stupor or passed out. The citizens of this town don't seem to like them very much, so I don't think they would tell them we're gone." She started counting on their fingers. "And we have some possessions and money. Steal their horses…"

"By the Gods, you're right." His face lit up. "What are we waiting for?"

They started around toward the back. There was a man asleep in the hay. Quietly as they could, they led two horses out of the stables and prepared for their escape. They mounted their horses just as the man in the hay awoke.

"Hey, what do you two--"

"Keep still your tongue," Joren threatened and threw down a few coins. "We steal from pirates and the corrupt only, and you'll do well to remember that when they awake in the morning."

Keladry looked at him strangely. "J--"

"Let's go," he said sternly and they galloped off down the back roads.

The two Tortallians rode out of the city in darkness, hoods covering their faces. Finally, Keladry halted and looked around. Joren stopped and urged his horse to return back to hers. 

"Where do we go?" she asked him. "First, we wander into Freilan. Then, we get taken across the sea to this West Continent. We escape from men of the Mira Empire, and we're in…"

"Lon Falas," he supplied. "There's no point trying to look for that little mangy animal that sent us here. We're too far from where we started."

"How about finding a wise man or a mage? Someone who knows about weird matters like this."

"We'll try in the next town. Now, let's find a place to sleep. I don't trust traveling by the light of the moon."

They settled down to sleep when they came to the edge of a small forest. Keladry tied the horses up and turned to Joren. "Are we going to set a watch? There might be bandits in this area."

"Yeah, sure. I'll take first watch," Joren said. "Besides, you'd probably let them sneak up on us."

"Oh, stop talking so negatively about yourself," she retorted. 

"Sarcasm," he nodded. "Nice. Really, it is." He threw a blanket at her. "I'll wake you up in two hours."

She took the blanket and found a place to sleep across the tiny clearing. Joren leaned up against a thick tree with large, crooked roots causing him to nearly trip in the darkness. He looked up through the trees and saw pieces of the moon. With that relief of familiarity, he settled into a position that would keep him awake. A knotted root dug into the back of his heels and a stub of a branch poked him in the back. 

An hour went by. Joren's boredom was at its climax. He resorted to counting the shadows of leaves on his stomach that came from the light of the moon above and thinking of ways to kill an animal with purple fur. He looked over at Keladry. Truth be told, he never thought she would last so long. It had been years since that first time she came into the Palace and just stood there…

"Like a lump," he whispered to himself. He half smiled. "A tomboy who loves and honors the Yamanis and their ways, who has this overwhelming sense of justice and equality. It's so annoying. She's too good for the job."

"Of course, _you_'ll never tell her that."

Joren sprung to his feet. "Who said that?"

A man who wore a purple tunic and deer hide breeches appeared in the clearing. He smiled kindly at Joren and gave a little bow. His raven hair spilled over his face. It was still too dark for Joren to see.

"I apologize for startling you," the man said in a heavily accented voice. "My name is Egavar, and my cottage is not too far from here. Would you and her like to join me? It's better than sleeping out in these scary woods."

Joren reached for his hunting knife (given to him by the Mirans after Xargo was gone). "How do I know we can trust you?"

Egavar chuckled. He turned his cloak pockets inside and out and showed that he had nothing tied to his belts. "You have a weapon; I do not. You are welcome to keep yourself armed and at a distance."

"Why would you bother to help us?"

"You're two young kids all on your own. You shouldn't be out here."

Joren growled. "I'm sick and tired of everyone pointing out how young we are. I can hold my own, thank you."

"I'm sure you can with reflexes like that," he replied. "Now, wake up your friend or whoever that is and bring your horses along. The trees space out from here inward and you can lead them through."

Joren, keeping one eye on Egavar, walked over to Keladry and shook her roughly by the shoulder. 

"Has it been two hours already?" Keladry yawned as she stretched and opened her eyes. Seeing his serious expression, she knew something was up. She looked past Joren. "Who is he?"

"Calls himself Egavar," Joren whispered. "I don't trust him, but he's unarmed and offering to share his cottage with us."

Keladry stood up and brushed herself off. She felt the strange man's eyes on them and shuddered inwardly. "How did he find us? Does he walk around the woods at night?"

"I don't know. Maybe he has a Gift. Anyway, get your stuff. We'll see what happens."

Joren started to pick up his bags and walk over to where their horses rested. Egavar waited patiently. The blond squire signaled Keladry with his eyes to keep one hand on her own knife and see what happened.

~~

Author: Sorry this chapter took longer than usual. Please, if you wish to send any flames about keeping you waiting, then address them to my teachers, who have given _way_ too much work for poor little me. Thanksgiving holiday should make up for this time lapse, though. That is, if I can get my relatives to leave me alone. (You know how it is. Ugh.)

Please send all comments, criticisms, and suggestions my way. I appreciate all the reviews I've gotten. I'm definitely motivated to write more and more, so don't worry about that.

Oh, and by the way: Yes, I do know that Joren isn't that much of a jerk in the ending part of this chapter. Out of character definitely, but I like to speculate that he is only a jerk 98.1 % of the time. 


	7. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 6

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 6

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. I've only read The First Test, but as I read the others, the story will fit into place with them. Well, it won't _really_, but it'll be as accurate as I can make it. I usually don't write fanfics of this style, so forgive me if I relapse into my angst/action Gundam Wing things again. 11-19-00

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

Keladry and Joren followed Egavar to a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods. It was a simple wooden structure with a bundled straw roof and a stone foundation. They left the horses tied up outside and followed the black-haired man inside.

"Please excuse the mess. I wasn't expecting visitors," Egavar said softly as he picked up a few shirts off the floor. There was a bed in one corner with quilts piled on top of it. A window was opposite of it, as well as a table and chair. Two trunks were at the foot of the bed. Joren and Keladry stayed near the door.

"How did you find us?" Keladry asked. "I don't mean to be rude for your hospitality, but it is strange how you just came upon us in the dead of the night."

Egavar smiled. "Yes, that is strange, isn't it? Well, it's the reason why I live out here in a forest of Lon Falas all alone."

"Why live alone?" Joren asked in a cold monotone voice.

The man sat down in his chair and let out a deep breath. "I'm a Nodestrum." Before they could respond, he held up his hands. "I know, I know. I look too young to be one, but you wouldn't believe how old I really am."

Keladry shook her head. "What's a Nodestrum?"

Egavar looked up at their expectant faces. "You d-don't know…?"

The two Tortallians exchanged looks. They said in unison, "No."

He stood up immediately and leaned toward them in disbelief. "Well, I'll be… I thought they taught this stuff." He ran a hand through his shoulder length hair and tried to form words that made sense. "Well, a Nodestrum is a keeper of the Old Magic. Oh, you know," he shrugged. "There's New Magic, and then there's the rapidly fading Old Magic. Uh… the Kodestrums prefer us to be away, and since the Old Magic is generally weaker now than it was, we oblige. And--"

"Kodestrums are keepers of the New Magic?" Joren interrupted.

"Er, yeah," Egavar frowned. "Sweet Nodh, they don't even know what a Kodestrum is." He shook his head. "Anyway, to keep the Old Magic in existence, the Nodestrums pass their knowledge and skills to one who is worthy of the burden-- er, I mean, duty." He sat down again. "I usually know when people are in my woods thanks to the Old Magic, and that's how I found you."

"We see," Keladry answered. "Would you mind if my companion and I talked for a moment?"

"Oh, no, go right ahead. I'll just see if I can find some food around here." Egavar stumbled out of his chair and toward a few baskets filled with dried plants and fruits. Keladry and Joren went to the opposite corner.

"You think we should trust him?" she asked.

"At first he looked mysterious and possibly powerful. Now I'd say he's in his normal state, awkwardness. He's harmless," Joren shrugged. "Want to ask him about the purple furball?"

"I guess." They walked back over to Egavar, who had set down some dried berries on the table. Keladry bowed slightly. "Thank you for the food, but we're not hungry. Um, sir--"

"Please, call me Egavar."

"Egavar, yes, uh, we were wondering if you could help us out with something," Joren began.

"Go on."  
"We've been looking for an odd little creature. It looks like a cross between some sort of dog and a bear."

"Except it has purple fur," Keladry pointed out. The Nodestrum's mouth fell open. His eyes widened.

"Y-you s-saw a…"

"I hope he's not this easy to startle all the time," Joren muttered. 

"You saw a labafret!" Egavar exclaimed.

"Oh, my, look at all the new words we've learned," Joren murmured sarcastically. Keladry elbowed him in the ribs.

"But, labafret? That's the name of the purple furball?" she asked.

"Furball," he repeated. "You should never call a creature of the Old Magic by such a disrespectful name."

"It'll be our business to disrespect the little monster," the blonde squire growled. "After throwing us in this world."

Egavar's head was swimming. These two _children_ had walked into his forest, having no idea what a Nodestrum was, nor most magic for that matter, and then having seen a _labafret _and crossing dimensional planes with it?! He rested his palm on his forehead. "So, does that mean the two of you have crossed over from one of the labafret's trips?"

"Trip? That was the little monster's trip? You make it sound like a stroll around the town." Joren snorted. "We were happy in our home world, and here comes your stupid laba-what ever and…" He couldn't find any more words to say, so he just asked, "How and why did it 'cross'?"

"Uh, well, according to the scrolls of Old Magic, labafrets can cross over to different planes of realities and… and… well, do whatever they like. They're very powerful and like traveling," he explained. "I can only imagine what you did to annoy it so much that it bothered to acknowledge your existence."

Keladry gave Joren a dirty look.

"Can you tell us how to find the one that sent us here?" Joren said.

"Unfortunately, no. Labafrets rarely spend time in their home plane, and normally come back every, oh, four to five years?"

"_Four to five years_!" they both shouted.

"I'm sorry. It's true." Egavar tapped his chin. His eyes were lit up with curiosity and awe. "Did you two really come from a different plane?"

"Obviously so," she answered. "Egavar, you mean to say we're going to be stuck here for a while unless we can find another one of these Old Magic creatures?"

"The labafret in particular is the one with plane crossing abilities, but I suppose there's some others that could do the same. Hey! You are welcome to stay with me while I find out." He paused. "It might take a few years, but--"

"No thanks," the two said simultaneously. Egavar looked disappointed. 

"It's been a long night," Joren sighed. "Let's get what little sleep there is left."

"You two go ahead and take the bed. I can sleep outside," the older man offered.

"No, this is your house. You don't have to do that," Keladry protested out of politeness.

"Well, the both of you have been through a lot. You deserve it. Besides, my Old Magic will keep me warm." With that, he went out the door. They could hear him whistling and the branches bend and move for him as he climbed into a tree and rested there. Joren picked up a quilt and tossed it to her. 

"You take the floor. I'll take the bed."

"I don't think so."

He frowned. "And just what makes you think _you_ deserve it?"

"Being grabbed by all your Miran buddies and insulted because I'm a girl-- why, is that not reason enough?" She pinched the bridge of her nose in stress. She reminded herself to keep calm and not talk back, but it was hard not to. Being in a different world so far from home with the hopes of never going back had that effect on a person.

Joren growled. "Fine, take the stupid bed. Fragile girls need their comfy beds."

"Yes, girls need their comfy beds. You know what, Joren? Take the bed. People have always mistaken you for a girl with those red cheeks of yours and long hair," she muttered. Keladry thought he didn't hear.

"What did you say?!" Joren grabbed her by the arm. Keladry wrenched herself free of him. 

"Oh, stop it! I'll take the damn bed if you'll just shut up and let me get some sleep!" she yelled back and shoved the spare quilt in his arms. She stomped over to the bed, yanked off her boots, and got under the quilts faster than Joren would have expected. He stared at her for a moment, letting his anger dissipate. Then he took off his own boots and lay down on the floor. It was surprisingly clean. He guessed that Egavar swept his cottage a lot. With a few wandering thoughts, he eventually fell asleep. 

Keladry, however, stayed awake a long time. She stared at the wall beside the bed. She thought of how much she disliked Joren, the labafret, and Egavar. Things were only going to get worse…

~~

Egavar shook Joren by the shoulder. "Wake up, boy. We'll get some breakfast."

"I'm not 'boy'. My name is Joren," he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

"Joren," Egavar repeated. "Well, Joren, get up. We'll catch some quail or what ever is out and bring it back for breakfast."

"I hate quail," the squire complained.

"Beggars can't be choosers, can they? But, I guess there's some reasonably good fishing at the stream."

"What about Keladry? Don't tell me she's getting out of work just because she's a girl." Joren paused. "I can't believe I just said that." He groaned and threw the quilt over his head. Egavar chuckled.

"Let her get some rest. Now come on. Let's go."  
Joren reluctantly tugged his boots on and followed the Nodestrum out the door. They walked for a few minutes before coming to a reasonably large brook. It sparkled in the morning light that came from the patch of clear sky overhead. Egavar walked behind a large tree and came back with two crudely made fishing poles.

"You always keep them there?" Joren asked while plopping down onto the bank.

"Yeah. I like to fish," he shrugged. "Most of my order would prefer using their magic to get food, but I have no problem relaxing like this."

"Hmph," Joren grunted and set up his pole. Something sprung to his mind. "Hey, Egavar."

"Yes?"  
"How did you know what I was talking about last night when you found us? You know--"

__

".... It's so annoying. She's too good for the job."

"Of course, **you'll** never tell her that."

"Old Magic. I'm sorry. Did I trespass on your privacy?"

"Yes," he snapped. "Don't do that again."

Egavar grinned. "I guess you don't want to let your sister know that you really do have good respect for her. You cover it up well with the screaming and arguing. I could hear you both from my tree and I didn't even use any magic."

"She's not my s--" Joren stopped himself in time.

"Not your what?"

"Nothing. My _sister_ and I just… don't get along," he replied quieter than before. He frowned. Egavar left him to his thoughts and enjoyed the leisure of catching breakfast. They sat on the bank in silence, listening to the water and the forest around them.

Author: Hope you liked that one! This chapter was kind of a calm interlude where everyone gathers their wits and takes a breather. Unfortunately for our two Tortallians, it's back to the fast life. ( insert cackle here.)

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you and your families have a great time (I know _I_ won't… If I'm lucky, I can sneak out between the carving of the Turkey and the time it takes for somebody to start _throwing_ the mash potatoes… *sweatdrop* )

11-22-00


	8. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 7

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 7

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

**And guys, I finally decided something. I know I haven't had the chance to read Page yet because I am not able to get my sorry self to the bookstore. But you see, this is a fanfic. And the number one rule of fanfics: you can do WHATEVER you want. So, how about we compromise? I've been getting a lot of feedback about Page, and I've found that I should pay some attention to that story line despite the fact that I haven't read it. Basically, whatever characters and/or plots which are present in Page will be distorted so that they can flow naturally into my story. Please be patient. I know you guys can be. Thanks for reading!

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

"Where will you go?" Egavar asked the two as they fed their horses. He leaned against the side of his cottage and folded his arms. "You'll need a guide."

Joren brushed himself off and stood face to face with the Nodestrum. For a few moments, he examined him. He finally said, "You want to come with us?"

Keladry lifted one eyebrow questioningly. "Egavar? Come with us?"  
"Why, not? He knows the land-- wait, you _do_ know the land, don't you?"

"Of course. I leave the woods a few times a year to meet with my order. If anything, they could help you more than I could."

He grinned. "Then it's settled. Egavar can lead us to his fellow Nodesters--"

"Nodestrums," he corrected.

"Yeah, Nodestrums. And they can help us find another purple furball…" Here Egavar looked at him reproachfully. "And Keladry and I go home. End of story."

"It will be harder than that," the older man said. "The Mira Empire is waging war around the whole entire world. The meeting of my order has been canceled this year so that the Kodestrums may gather their powers and help the human armies." He scratched his chin. "Leaving Lon Falas for Carthan won't be _too_ hard, I suppose."

"Carthan? Is that where you meet?" Keladry asked.

"Yeah. It's the city in which there is an estate owned by the Grand Nodestrum. He will most definitely be able to help you."

"Then it's settled!" Joren exclaimed. "Egavar, will you come with us?"  
"Yes. You two children need looking after and I don't trust your 'people skills'." He looked sharply at Joren, who only grinned wider. Keladry rolled her eyes.

"Then what are we waiting for? Egavar, do you know where you can get a horse?"

"Yes, the village nearby should have some. I'll purchase one and we can take some of my stock here for food." He sighed and gazed at his home. "I'm going to miss it, but I'm sure that helping you is worth it. And besides, I might actually get to see a labafret." His expression became happier, as if a ray of light shined down especially on him. "A labafret! That would be the greatest day of my life!"

"Funny. It was the worst day of ours," Joren grumbled.

They packed supplies from Egavar's cottage. There was enough food, clothing, and blankets for all of them. The horses were in good health. The three companions were set to travel. The Nodestrum stood in front of his cottage, now boarded up, whispering a prayer to his chief god.

"I feel somewhat bad that you're coming with us," Keladry confessed as they set out. "We've just met you last night."

"But, everything you say-- I know it's true. By Nodh, I can feel it. Hey! The mere chance of seeing a labafret is good enough for me," Egavar reassured. "What's wrong with your brother?"

  
"Br-brother?" Keladry looked at Joren, who was a few feet in front of them. His head was bowed and seemed to be brooding about something. "I don't know. What did you talk about when you went to get breakfast?"

"Nothing really," he lied. 

"Oh. Okay. So, how long will it take for us to get to that place you mentioned?"

"You mean, Carthan?"

"Yeah." Keladry glanced at Joren again, before turning to continue talking with Egavar. "The Grand Nodestrum's estate is there, like you said before. I worry about our safety. The Mirans have already been enough trouble to Joren and me since we got here."

"A couple of days' ride to the nearest port town."

"Er…" Keladry thought of the Mirans and where they had lodged. "I don't think we can pass that way." When he gave her a questioning look, she said, "Mirans."

"Oh. Well, then we can pass by land. It will take a week longer getting to the tip of the West Peninsula. That's where Carthan is."

"Sounds good," she nodded and glanced back at Joren. He seemed to slump lower in his saddle. She frowned.

~~ 

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"…Are we there," long pause," now?"

"No." A little bit more irritated.

"I hate traveling. So uncomfortable. Are you sure we're not there yet?"

"Argh! You know what, Egavar?! I _don't_ know! I'm not the guide! You are! I thought you knew where we're going!" Joren yelled.

"Oh yeah." He smiled sheepishly.

Keladry rolled her eyes.

~~

"You're staring."

"I am _not_."

"Yes, you are. I wouldn't blame you. That serving girl is pretty."

"I bet I could sweet-talk her."

"Ha! You're too young, boy. I have way more experience."

"Yeah, and besides the fact that your Old Magic keeps you from appearing the real 44 years that you are."

"Damn. I should never have told you my age," Egavar muttered under his breath.

"Hey, guys, we're supposed to be looking for the local scribe and mapmaker-- not gaping at some girl," Keladry lectured as she came up behind them. Egavar and Joren whirled around with red faces.

~~

They camped under a pitch-black sky. The stars were hidden from the mortal eye. Dark storm clouds threatened to break and pour near the dawn. Despite all this, the three remained out in nature where they preferred. Two of them met quietly at the edge of their small camp and plotted.

"The nuisance must be eliminated."

"Yes. I cannot stand it anymore. It must end tonight."

The speaker cast a weary eye upon the remaining slumbering form. "I say we do it slowly--slowly and painfully. There must be suffering for what we've endured through this journey."

"Yes. Let me do it. I deserve my revenge."

"I think I deserve it more. Let me."

"I'll get the head. You get the feet. Be quiet. There might have been suspicion from that awful thing before we feigned sleep."

"I will." There was a scuffle of feet. Silently, one of them crept over the third companion, holding something high in their fists. The other crawled around to the legs, preparing to hold the person down lest they struggle.

Joren yawned. He had a strange feeling that someone was watching him, so he opened his eyes. "Keladry?!"

"Ah!" She put the gag in his mouth as Egavar pinned down the squire's legs and arms. Joren struggled for a moment, fearing for his life, when finally they had his hands tied behind his back and his ankles bound as well. Keladry and Egavar sat back. They shook hands in congratulations of each other. Joren glared at them.

"Hey," Egavar shrugged as he leaned toward Joren. "That's what you get for snoring."  
~~

Carthan was a city of trade and business. Merchants lined the streets, selling their wares. Customers flocked from one booth to another, trying to find the best deal. And three travelers trudged exhaustedly down the stone paved street. 

"We're here," Egavar announced with a deep breath.

"Finally! Which way to this Grand Nodestrum of yours?" Joren demanded.

"At the far end of the city. You won't be able to miss it. It's very pleasant looking."

"Then let's hurry. The faster we get there, then the faster we can get an audience with the Grand Nodestrum and plead our case."

They traveled down the main street of Carthan, making their way through the crowds. Keladry and Joren were careful because of pick-pockets, but Egavar didn't seem bothered at all. Eventually, they came to the estate. It was a great old building. Large stones were set in place and covered by years growth of moss and vines. The three went down a long paved walkway from the street to the door. The large oak door looked as heavy as the stones. Casually, Egavar knocked on the door. His knuckles made a slightly dampened hollow sound. 

"Who goes there?" A voice called out from nowhere.

"Brother Egavar, Dark Forest, of Lon Falas and two travelers, Keladry and Joren, of whom I take responsibility for. We seek the counsel of his Grand Keeper of Old Magic," he said in a loud clear voice. There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open. Keladry looked past the Nodestrum and saw no one.

"Who opened the door?"

"Shhhh," Egavar calmed her and stepped inside. They followed him. As soon as they did, the doors slammed shut. Joren reached for his knife, but once again, Egavar stopped him. "We are safe here."

They walked down a long hall lit by torches in sconces on the wall. Their shadows stretched out behind them. At the end of the hall, they entered a large room with but one window of stained blue glass in the shape of a four pointed star. Egavar signaled for them to bow.

"Bow to what?" Joren whispered.

"To me. Over here. The old man in the shadows," a scratchy voice laughed. It wasn't scary as most would think, but comforting. Egavar bowed low and was full of respect. Joren and Keladry, still unsure of the voice, bowed awkwardly and looked to their companion for guidance.

Presently, a silhouette appeared in front of the light cast down from the window. "Greetings, my children. What is it that you ask?"  
"Oh, Grand One," Egavar began. "These two children before you have been transported from their home by a labafret. They seek a way home. I can only hope that you deem them worthy of your aide."

"Yes, yes, enough of all that flowered, fancy talk," the old man said. He came toward the two younger travelers. "So, you have been sent to this realm by a labafret?"

"Yes, Sir," Keladry answered.

"Interesting. I haven't seen one of those rascals in a while."

If Egavar seemed surprised at the Grand Nodestrum's conversational tone, he didn't show it. "Grand One, perhaps it would be possible for you to tell us where to find one?"

"In this realm, now?" the old man laughed. "No, no, I'm sorry. At the moment, they're all on a different plane of existence, being elusive as ever. It might be a while before you run into one of them again."

"Excuse me, sir, but how are we sure that we will run into one of them at all?"

"Because," the old man said with a serious tone, "Once a person has seen a labafret, they are cursed to meet that same one again before their lives are done. It's a strange thing, but true. I can look it up in all my old dusty scrolls and books for you, but I wouldn't want to waste my strength."

Joren clenched his fists. "So, that's it? We're stuck here?"

"I'm afraid so. I'd suggest trying to find your own place in this world," the Grand Nodestrum suggested. His shadowy form moved back toward the window. "Until you meet that little furball again." He chuckled. "I like the nickname you've picked. It suits them well."

"You read my mind?" Joren said after a long pause.

"Yes. Now, that reminds me. I think I may be able to help you after all."

"How?" Keladry asked.

"You're bound to meet the furball again. But who is to say it will do as you want and send you home? Most likely, it will laugh in your face and insult your shoes." He laughed at his own corny joke.

"What do you suggest they do?" Egavar spoke up with concern in his eyes.

"Seek the Truth Stone. Labafrets obey the Truth and anyone who holds it. Once you meet it again, you will be able to force your way home." With that, the doors opened again-- pulled open by invisible hands. Keladry shook her head.

"But sir, what does this Truth Stone look like?"

"It's a jewel."

"A jewel? What sort of jewel?" Joren demanded.

"No one knows. It's just a jewel that shines like no other, and causes its holder to speak the Truth."

Before the three could respond to that, the ground shook. A rock shattered through the blue stained window. They all threw up their arms over themselves to protect their bodies from the shards of glass.

"What's going on?" Keladry shouted.

"It's the Miran army!" Egavar exclaimed, rushing over to the window. "Quick! We must flee!" He went to the Grand Nodestrum's side. "I will help my Grand One out of here-- you two go ahead without us."

"We can't!" Keladry protested, but Joren had already grabbed her hand and pulled her after him.

The world was complete chaos. The walls around them shook. The Miran canons destroyed the city of Carthan. Flames licked the sky that rose from burning houses. The citizens screamed in terror as the soldiers of the Mira Empire destroyed one thing after another. They carried off loot and people for slaves. There was clashing of swords as the peace keepers of Carthan battled valiantly with those of the Mira. 

"Keep going!" Joren yelled as he shoved Keladry in front of them. They escaped from the Grand Nodestrum's estate and dodged the attacks of soldiers. The city fell apart around them.

"We have to fight!" Keladry shouted back to him, although she continued to run. They were almost at the end of the long paved walkway to the street. 

"Carthan is already dead; we cannot help them," Joren said angrily as they mounted their horses and rode to the far side of the city.

Keladry did not know where he was leading them. "What are you thinking, Joren? We're heading to the sea from here!"

"It's too late to go back the way we came! The armies are gathered there!" he shouted back. "Don't stop! Keep going toward the ships. Do you see them?! The ships are right there! They're fleeing, too!"

Their hearts were racing as they rode toward the hastily launching ships. Joren leapt off his horse and ran toward a line of men quickly loading one of the ships. Keladry dismounted her horse, catching her breath. She watched Joren point to himself, than to her. He seemed to be begging for a place on the ship. Finally, he waved to her.

"They'll let us go with them! Come on!"

Keladry looked back at Carthan. It was just like Raven's Keep-- obviously, a place of beauty and prestige, but gone before she had a chance to know it. "But, Egavar--"

"He's fine. He probably made it out. A few did," Joren insisted as he yanked her along. 

Before long, they set sail. Keladry and Joren huddled in blankets at the stern of the ship. It was night time then. They were far away from the burning Carthan and the destructive armies of Mira.

"Damn it! This is all wrong!" Joren cursed. "We _can't_ be stuck here. This world is on the verge of nothing, and we must find a shiny jewel that can make the purple furballs send us home."

Keladry kept a stone-like face, watching the water so dark to her eyes. A single light shone from a lamp held by the watch. She blinked. "What did you say?"

Joren rolled his eyes. "Nothing. Just the worse predicament in the history of man."

She narrowed her eyes. "Hey, you're not the only one suffering. Stop it."

"Hmph." He turned away from her and muttered something to himself. Keladry sighed.

"Joren, let's just call a truce. We're stuck. There's no changing that. Let's at least try to live our lives."

He turned back to her. His sky blue eyes were exceptionally bright to her at that moment. "Oh yes. Try to live our lives. I'd love to. Really, I would."

"Don't be sarcastic," she snapped. 

He continued. "No, no, no! You misunderstand! I _want_ to have a life less ordinary! Nothing could be greater!"

"Argh…"


	9. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 8

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 8

By Sulia Serafine

[This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

**And guys, I finally decided something. I know I haven't had the chance to read Page yet because I am not able to get my sorry self to the bookstore. But you see, this is a fanfic. And the number one rule of fanfics: you can do WHATEVER you want. So, how about we compromise? I've been getting a lot of feedback about Page, and I've found that I should pay some attention to that story line despite the fact that I haven't read it. Basically, whatever characters and/or plots which are present in Page will be distorted so that they can flow naturally into my story. Please be patient. I know you guys can be. Thanks for reading!

P.S. I apologize for the sudden jump of time in the story. Why I'm doing this will be made clear A FEW CHAPTERS FROM NOW.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

So the two lost Tortallians escaped the ravaged city of Carthan, where it was made known to them what they could do to go home. Egavar escaped, as they later found out from one of the city's surviving peacekeepers. He and the Grand Nodestrum fled to a Kodestrum sanctuary, where they were accepted to stay while they looked for their own Nodestrum kind to visit. The ship that Keladry and Joren escaped on eventually ended up at the northern part of the West continent-- away from Lon Falas, away from Mira, and somewhere in the middle of the chaos. They trained and worked hard for their first year in this strange land. They performed odd jobs and slowly grew in knowledge of the lands around them. Finally, they set down upon the road. They were on a quest for the Truth Stone and the powerful labafrets. They made money as mercenaries-- the majority of the jobs they took were for the good of people. And they gained many acquaintances along the way. They sent messages from where they were back to Egavar, whom had finally gone home to his forest.

It was as legendary as any story might be. Well, except for--

"I _hate_ it when you snore."

"I hate it when _you_ start lecturing me on justice and equality!"

"Stop drooling. The girls you're gaping at probably don't like the drooling-type."

"Well, they're definitely girls I'd rather share the road with than you."

"Ouch. That hurts. I think I'm going to cry."

"We are getting _way_ too sarcastic."

"It was like you said the first night we were in this land. We've gone mad."

"Don't remind me."

And thus, the quest continued.

~~

Keladry tied back her long hair. She liked long hair now. Before, the former Tortallian page had hated it. It had been four years since they had landed in a world full of strange creatures and people. Keladry was eighteen. She shuffled toward the stream and scooped up a handful of water to splash her face. She stood back up and went back to the dying embers of their campfire.

"Joren? Where are you?" She called out while bending down to pick up her vest.

"I'm right here," he said as he came through the underbrush without disturbing it. "There are some deer tracks off that way. Do you feel like hunting?"

"We just woke up. No, I don't," she replied sharply.

"Well, excuse me," he sat down. "I didn't know you were going to have a grouchy morning." He started eating a small piece of bread from their food supply. He swallowed before continuing. "Hey, there's a village up ahead. There's bound to be some business there."

"Yeah. There are also Mirans everywhere," she muttered, putting on her gray vest. It had a high gray collar that she liked and it was trimmed with gold thread. Joren also had a similar vest. 

"Oh, come on. Mirans around here? After that battle at Lon Falas that we heard about, the Mira Empire has certainly weakened."

She shook her head. "That doesn't prove anything. I'll believe it when I see it."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Let's get to the village then."

They packed up, leaving no traces of their presence in that clearing. Both mounted their horses and set upon the road once again. Presently, they came to the village. It looked normal enough. The villagers went about, performing their tasks. Keladry and Joren rode behind a farmer's wagon. They took in their surroundings.

"See? No Mirans," Joren whispered to her with a smirk.

"Stop gloating," she whispered back. They dismounted from their horses and led them to something they assumed was a tavern. They went inside and sat down at the bar. The bartender was an old man with a scar running down his chin. "What do you want?"

"A drink of ale, maybe." Joren leaned on his elbows. "Or maybe just some information. How is the village here?"

"Peaceful. We don't need the likes of you," the man gruffly said and started polishing a mug with a cloth. 

"What do you mean, the likes of us?" Keladry narrowed her eyes in slight annoyance of his tone. She calmed her self and became expressionless once again.

"I know that smart-alec type… and the swords by your sides. Get out of this town."

Joren stiffened. "Well, I would have thought you would try and keep us here-- you know, us being customers."

"You haven't drank anything yet," the man retorted.

"And we won't with a tone like that!" Joren retorted. Keladry rolled her eyes. 

"Stop it. Let's get out of here."

They left the tavern. Standing beside their horses, they watched the village around them. Women swept out the dirt from their doorways. A man carried bundles of wheat. Another led two cattle down the road. Keladry checked her saddlebags, content where she was. But Joren couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong. He looked closely at each villager. None of them were smiling. Perhaps it was just a busy day.

"Or perhaps it isn't," he thought. Keladry nudged him with her elbow.

"What is it?"

"Let's stay in this place tonight. Something's going to happen."

"If you say so," she said doubtfully. 

That night, they ended up returning to the tavern. What amazed them was that the place was full of people-- mostly rowdy looking men. They did not appear to be from the village. Joren and Keladry assumed they were simply villagers they had not noticed before-- sons of farmers or something of the sort.

"Why are there so many people?" Keladry said to Joren as they found seats at the bar again. The same man as before put two mugs of ale in front of them and walked away to another customer before they could speak. Shrugging, Joren drank some and turned around on his stool to watch the rest of the crowd.

"That shady bunch," he gestured to the opposite side of the room, "look like they're troublemakers. We better watch them," Joren said to her. She nodded and took a small sip of the ale.

A man with a week's growth of beard on his face approached the two. He leered at Keladry. "Hey, pretty thing. Want to come dance with Bazal?"

Keladry turned so she was also facing the man like Joren. She looked him up and down. "No."

"What? You're with this _little_ guy?" he laughed at Joren. The former-squire bristled.

"Excuse me? Hey, pal, I've seen better hair on a greasy pig," he said menacingly. "You've got another thing coming if you're calling me _little_." Keladry shook her head with a slight smile as Joren stood up and came toe to toe with the other man. A few other men started to notice and cleared some space for the two.

"Hey! Two guys are gonna fight!" one yelled. Immediately, cheers rang out. Men yelled as Joren and the man named Bazal stared each other down. Keladry merely yawned.

"I'm going to chew you up and spit you out, you little nobody!" Bazal shouted as he came at Joren. Joren easily stepped aside and punched the man in the jaw. Bazal recovered quicker than he anticipated and slammed his fist into his midsection. All the air rushed out of him as the bigger man grabbed the smaller's hair and yanked his head up. He wound his arm back, prepared to bust his face when Joren grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it with all his might. The man let go of his hair and Joren kicked him hard in the stomach. The man went down to the floor and the men's cheers became louder.

"Joren," Keladry called from her stool. She made her way through the crowd and watched Bazal attentively. "Joren, he's got a dagger."

He heard her and backed away from Bazal some more. Bazal got up from the floor and sneered at him. "Nobody makes a fool out of me!"

The blonde laughed. "You're such a wussy! It's a damned bar fight for Gods' sake!"

Bazal lunged at him with his dagger. Joren twisted aside and slammed his joined fists on the back of Bazal's neck. The man went down and scrambled back up just as quickly, almost catching him off guard. 

"I'll kill you!" he bellowed and slashed the dagger in front of him. He thrust the dagger at Joren, who again dodged. They started to move in a circle. The cries and cheers of the men around them became louder.

"That's it! Get him and his wench!" Bazal shouted to his comrades. They joyfully joined in and leapt at Joren and Keladry. 

"Watch out!" Keladry yelled as she saw them draw their swords. She had a short sword, and Joren still refrained from using his. She rushed forward. The men swung their swords in wide arcs, harming their comrades and not Keladry. She took advantage of this and moved around them in impossible space. Then she knocked the swords from their hands and struck the flat of her blade on their heads, knocking them out.

Joren faired much worse, still fighting without a weapon despite the unfair fight. Bazal and a few other men surrounded him.

"Is this how cowards really fight?" Joren said to them. He dodged one after another, taking a few blows to his unprotected flanks. "Come on, you can do better than that!"

"Shut up you little punk!"

"Could you stop using that word _little_ so much? It's annoying!" Joren punctuated each word with a blow to Bazal. He knocked the dagger out of his hand. Bazal rammed into Joren, tackling him to the floor. They grappled for the dagger while Keladry still held her own a few feet away.

"Joren!" Keladry cried. She made her way toward him, fighting off the men who continued to come at her. Bazal shoved Joren away and, instead of reaching for the dagger, grabbed her ankle and tripped her. She fell, her sword clattering on the floor. Joren jumped on Bazal, the dagger in his hand. He put it to Bazal's throat.

"Call them off! I swear, I'll kill _you_."

"Joren," Keladry said in a warning tone.

"Don't worry about it, Kel. Get up."

She got her sword and stood up. The men backed away reluctantly, watching their friend with a dagger pressed to his throat. Joren yanked Bazal to his feet. He kept a careful grip on the weapon and the man. "Clear a path to the door, damn it!"

"I'll hunt you down for this," Bazal threatened.

"Oh, please. I'm laughing on the inside," Joren said with a cold expression. Keladry came closer.

"Joren, we have to get out of here _now_." She sheathed her sword and glanced around.

"We're going, don't worry," he replied and made Bazal move with them as they made their way toward the door. Joren loosened his grip on the man for one moment… 

But it was enough for Bazal to grab him and wrench the dagger from his hands. He lunged at Joren, who started to run for his horse. Keladry responded a split second afterward, following him. Bazal yelled at them and threw the dagger. It cut threw the air toward Keladry. Joren twisted around. 

"Watch out!" 

The dagger missed Keladry's head, but it did cut her hair. She gasped as she watched her long ponytail fall to the ground. The men from the tavern rushed out. They were going to give chase. She reached for her sword with fury in her eyes.

"Forget about them. We've got to get out of here," he said urgently and grabbed her wrist.

"No! They're going to pay for that!" she said furiously. "Since when do _you_ run from a fight?"

"Since we got outnumbered by Miran soldiers!" he said right back. Her eyes went wide with realization as she looked back at the mob about to chase them. The shady bunch he had pointed out earlier now revealed their Miran crests on their tunics. She quickly obliged. They ran to their horses and mounted, riding away into the night.

When they were far into the woods, they turned off the road and made a small hasty camp with no fire. Keladry calmed the horses and gave them some food. "Damn it. I knew I was right. There _are_ Mirans in this part of the country."

"Don't rub it in," Joren snapped. He lay back against a tree and let out a deep breath. "We're going back there tomorrow and dealing with those Mirans. I'm sick and tired of them!"

"Well, they _are_ the ones waging war in every nation on this world," she reminded. "And they are not our concern. There are millions of them and two of us. We're after the Truth Stone, remember? And after all the jewels we've seen and examined, we still haven't got it." She also settled down for sleep. "The labafrets are still no where to be seen. You see? We have no time to fight the evil of the world."

Joren stared at her. "I swear, that's the speech I usually give to you when you're being too damned righteous. Aren't you mad they cut your hair?"

"That's besides the point," she said through gritted teeth. He backed off the subject.

"Well, I'm going back with or without you tomorrow."

She growled. "Fine, I'll go. Maybe they have the Truth Stone among their spoils. But this time, we won't be caught off guard. That fight back there was so sloppy. I can't even begin to express how terrible it was."

He yawned. "Tell me about it. Well, goodnight. Hope you enjoy the tomboy haircut. I mean, you always acted like one, but now you look like one. Nice change."

She glared at his back. "Well, at least I don't have long blonde hair that makes some of the girls ask you whether you're a girl or not before playing to your flirts."

"I hate you."

"Yeah, I hate you, too. Goodnight."


	10. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 9

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 9

By Sulia Serafine

[11-24-00 This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

Keladry woke up at the break of dawn. She yawned and stretched. Her muscles were stiff and sore from leaning against the tree the whole night. She looked around. The horses were asleep a few feet away. But where was Joren? Keladry slowly stood up and walked toward the horses, as if they would give her an answer. She listened carefully to the world around her.

"Joren?" she called gently. "Hey, you idiot, where have you gone now?"

She decided to walk back toward the road. Her instincts were right. Sitting high in a tree beside the thin road, Joren looked up at the sky. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. He just lay there like he was thinking about something too deep to notice anything else. After a few moments, Keladry called his attention.

"Hey, Joren, what are you doing?"

"Just thinking." He plucked a leaf from its branch and held it before his eyes. He became mesmerized by its simplicity. It was stupid and pointless, but he was looking at every tiny thing around him in a new way that morning.

"About our enemies back at the village?"

He glanced at her for the first time that morning. His eyes were empty and dull. "Something like that." 

And with that, he turned his face back toward the brightening sky. "Kel, go eat breakfast or something. You're bothering me."

"Well, excuse me for disturbing you," she said under her breath and left him to his thoughts. When she was gone, Joren sat up some more. He held out the leaf to the side and let it go, watching it float and fall to the ground. Then he smiled softly and began to climb down.

"Please, Mithros. Let today be better. Better than yesterday, or the day before that… or any day these last four years," he whispered. When he reached the ground, he brushed himself off. Joren wondered what there was to eat for breakfast. Knowing Keladry, he would have to get back to the food before she took the best picks of their small rations. For once, he took his time. His mind lingered upon matters that he'd wondered about since he first came to this strange world.

"It's called brooding," he thought. "And it's always about the same things." He kicked the dirt in a brief fit of agitation and shook his foot to get most of the dirt off. He continued walking along, feeling the breeze against his face. It was absolutely amazing how he could notice that day. He usually didn't care to examine the world around him. Joren sighed. "Anything to get this depression out of my head."

"Joren! Do you have my belt knife? I know you do," Keladry called as she saw him walk slowly up.

"Uh, yeah. It's right here." He handed it to her and sat down. She handed him some venison and bit of bread. 

"So, are you going back and taking care of the Mirans?" she asked with an air of boredom. This scene had been performed many times before. It was always he who led them off to a fight they would regret. Like chasing after a purple furball.

"Yes," Joren confirmed. He suddenly heard the dull tone of his voice and sought to cover it up. He smiled before she thought anything was wrong with his expression. "I'll check their jewels and cut their hair."

Keladry reached for her own short locks of brown. "No, actually, I want to do that."

"Hmm… Usually I'm the one who's bent on fighting for petty reasons."

"Yes, and I blame you for letting it rub off on me." She paused. "We should only fight if the odds aren't too against us. How many Mirans do you think there are?"

"I don't know," he answered. "It's a small village, though. Can't be much more than those who were at the tavern. Hopefully."

"Hmm…" she tapped her chin. "How could any village house Miran soldiers?"

Joren froze. He received a sudden flashback to the day before.

__

They left the tavern. Standing beside their horses, they watched the village around them. Women swept out the dirt from their doorways. A man carried bundles of wheat. Another led two cattle down the road. Keladry checked her saddlebags, content where she was. But Joren couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong. He looked closely at each villager. None of them were smiling. Perhaps it was just a busy day.

"None of them were smiling. Not one," he said aloud.

"What?" Keladry blinked.

"The villagers don't like the Mirans," he pointed out. "They just can't. I never saw a happy villager there, did you? Maybe the Mirans threatened them to align themselves with their empire."

" Maybe we can get some of these villagers to help us. Yes, I would definitely fight if we had some support."

"But I don't really feel like involving common folk," Joren said. "We should limit the casualties to the Mirans and ourselves."

She wanted to argue that, but she withheld. 

Joren smiled faintly. "I feel like we're starting our own little war."

Her expression fell. "Yeah. And they shouldn't even be our concern. The Truth Stone is."

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes. Joren suddenly spoke, breaking the tranquil glass built around them like a hammer. "Hey, do you think we'll ever get home?"

"Don't say that. I hate it when say that," Keladry said in a heartbeat. She could have kicked herself for betraying her uneasiness.

"I've never said it to you before," he corrected in a nearly inaudible voice. She turned away. A pang of sorrow settled somewhere in his chest. He ignored the ache and stood up. "Come on. Let's get to that village and see if we can get the news on the scum."

She nodded and also went to saddle her horse. They decided to approach the village from the other side and hopefully not be seen. Keladry suggested they find a farmer out in his field that was tending to his crops. They could find out all they needed to know without even entering the village. He agreed and they set out to the fields by the village.

She turned out to be right. A farmer was busy plowing when they got down from their horses and approached him.

"Kind Sir, may we have a word with you?" Keladry called.

The farmer wiped his moist brow with the back of his hand. He stopped plowing and waited expectantly for them to continue.

"We are travelers from far away," she began, "And we were fearing for the state of the village. I see you have soldiers of some allegiance here. Is there a group of bandits in this area and these soldiers are here to protect you?"

Joren noticed how she formed her sentences. They weren't exactly lies. She only let the farmer come to his own conclusions that she didn't know they were Mirans. She was right. His methods were rubbing off on her.

The man looked around nervously as if he saw spies in the trees. He gulped. "There aren't any bandits for sure. The big brutes would kill any bandit nearby."

"So," Keladry paused, "they protect the village?"

"Not so much as protect as occupy it," the farmer said, wringing his hands. His eyes were wide in fear. "Don't tell anybody I said that. I'd get in trouble with them and then they'd take my fields away…"

"It's all right. We won't say a word," Keladry said to him. "So in exchange for your cooperation, they don't harm you. Is that it?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes. That's it."

She looked over her shoulder at her companion. "You heard him."

Joren folded his arms. "Doesn't this village have any way to protect itself at all?"

"We're no fighters!" the farmer protested. "Maybe our sons could, but we don't want to start no fight! We're peaceful folk, see? We don't want any trouble."

"You can't just let them walk all over you. They'll keep on feeding off this village like leeches until there's nothing left. It's best to do something now while there's still a chance," Keladry insisted.

"No, no. We can't. We just can't."

"Don't be a fool!" Joren shouted. He immediately lowered his voice. "Look, my companion and I will help you all. We've dealt with this sort of thing before."

"Liar," Keladry muttered in his ear. "You damn well know we always stayed out of these sort of things."

"For once I'm being valiant and noble like you want and you're criticizing me?!" he hissed back.

The farmer looked back and forth from the two arguing youths. "Uh…"

"What's the damn problem?" Joren continued. "To hell with it, we'll let the village get trampled just like Carthan and every other pathetic place we've seen go up in flames."

"Oh, don't you dare start!" Keladry put her hands on her hips. "If you think you're going to get me with guilt, you've got another thing coming, Joren of Stone Mountain."

"Well, excuse me! I didn't know we were switching our preferences of helping the poor and needy as mercenaries to a pair of jewel seekers really looking out for themselves."

"You know that's not what I meant in the first place! The odds are against us, and you know it."

"As if that ever stopped _you_ before. What happened to that annoying little runt who took on three stronger and older boys just to fight for what's right-- when you _knew_ you couldn't win? Huh? Are you a chicken now? I swear I'd rather have that annoying runt right now than you!" He glared at her angrily.

"There's a difference between a noble deed and an action of a stubborn fool." Keladry turned her head away. "Fine, if you want to get killed without thinking this through. Fine, if you… you want to throw away _everything_ just to get killed in a fight that we could have avoided. We can travel to the next city and send help here. This country has a good king who sends his men to places rumored to have the Mirans. He protects his people. Maybe if we're lucky, the scum will move on. They never stay in one place too long anyway, and if the villagers won't join us to rebel against them-- there's not much we can do."

Joren stomped away with a red face. Keladry ran her fingers through her hair, trying to calm herself. She frowned when her fingers brushed her bare neck. "Wait," she thought. That was right-- her hair. "Maybe we ought to do something. I certainly can't let them get away with it." She paused and groaned inwardly. "I can't rush into a fight anymore! I promised myself I wouldn't do that after getting sliced so neatly across my belly last time." She touched her stomach gently, remembering the near death experience she'd had a two years ago in Arthados, a mountainous country bordering Lon Falas.

The farmer tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe you'd have better luck asking the people in the village…"

She blinked. "Uh, yes. Thanks. I'll do that."

~~

Joren waited for her impatiently. "Well come on, Miss Let's-Not-Fight. We have to move on to the next town."

"Stop being so childish," she said irritably. "We'll go into the village now."

"Oh, but Miss Hypocrite," he said in mocking, "I feel like we'd be outnumbered. I think we should run with our tails between our legs like two cowards. Don't you?"

"Shut up, or I swear I'll…"

"You'll what?" he challenged.

She put her foot in the stirrup and mounted up. She glared at him and rode down the path toward the village. Joren followed, muttering curses. They entered the town opposite from where they first entered. They ducked into the seamstress's place. The woman jumped up from her chair in surprise.

"Y-yes? Can I help you?"

"Sorry, miss. We're just passing through."

"Oh, I see," the woman said with an expression that said "No, I don't see."

Keladry glanced at Joren. She sighed. "Do the villagers like these Mirans?"

The woman looked shocked. She put a hand over her small mouth. "Who are you?"

"We're mercenaries," Joren interrupted. "With special disfavor for Mirans."

"This place don't have the money to hire no mercenaries," the woman mumbled scornfully and turned her backs on them. 

"We don't want money," Keladry said softly. "Please, if my companion and I had some support from the villagers and maybe a few men fighting with us, we're sure we could drive them out."

"Why do you care?" the woman questioned.

Keladry suddenly remembered her hair. She convinced herself it wasn't _for her hair_. That was so vain. No, rather, it was for what was right. She instantly felt like she was fighting back home in Tortall for a poor dog being chased out a kitchen by an angry chef. Joren peered at her curiously.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she replied. Instead, she actually smiled at him. She turned back to the seamstress. "We care because the situation isn't fair. We'll get these scum no matter how much they outnumber us."

Joren smiled. "What do you know. The annoying runt is back."

"Call me runt again and I'll cut your hair. We're adults now."

His eyebrows lifted in surprise as he instinctively reached for his loose blond ponytail. The seamstress looked at them as if they were nuts. She called to the back room. Two young men about Joren and Keladry's age walked in.

"Yes mother?"

"These mercenaries want to gather the villagers to drive out the regiment of Mirans."

The taller son whooped loudly. "It's about time!"

"Yeah. About time," Keladry repeated.

~~

Aurhor: Hope you liked that one. I think that was probably the best argument I've had for the two unlikely companions in a while. Anyway, the four-day weekend is over… I feel like I've been spoiling you with a chapter a day. School demands attention, so I guess I might let the chapters slip to every three days or something. I wouldn't worry about it. 

P. S. Thanks for all the reviews. Especially umm…'s. Very… interesting. I'm a fan of Dilandou, too (MOERO!). Thank you guys, so much! You don't know how much you all mean to me.


	11. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 10

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 10

By Sulia Serafine

[11-27-00 This is a Protector of the Small fanfic, all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE ( i.e. cursing, swearing…) You have been warned!]

The strong and bold men of the village gathered in the cellar of one of the villager's farms. They looked easy-going and carefree, examining the top of their shoes and whistling. It was not the group of liberal rebels Keladry and Joren had planned on. Speaking of which, the two Tortallians stood side by side in front of the village men. Their faces were blatantly blank.

Finally, Joren leaned over to whisper something into his companion's ear.

"We're going to die today, aren't we?"

She elbowed him in the side. "This started off as your idea-- not mine."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're taking full responsibility, not me."

"If we die, I don't think I have to take no stupid responsibility," he retorted and folded his arms. He cleared his throat. "All right! You're all here because we want these Miran _scum_ out of this village, am I right?"  
A chorus of cheers was his response. Keladry rolled her eyes. She whispered to Joren. "What are you doing-- giving a speech?"

"I just might," he snapped. He turned back to the men. "We must arm ourselves against them. Be not afraid." He gestured to Keladry. "My partner and I will fight along beside you. They cannot harm you if we all band _together_!"

"They still outnumber us!" a slightly timid man with an overlarge hat pointed us.

"Well, then, we'll have a strategy to compensate for lack of numbers," Joren shrugged with a wicked grin on his face.

~~

"This is going to be one of the easier jobs we've ever taken," the blonde whispered to his partner.

"We have faced worse," she admitted. "Okay, okay. You're in charge. Don't screw this up."

"Trust me. I won't."

They watched the largest house in the village from the seamstress' window. It was where the higher officers of the Miran regiment were said to be occupying. A few armored men leaned against the front side of the house-- obviously guards, but not good ones. They were too confident to think that any villager might do something. 

"What are the women doing?" he asked her suddenly. "We've got the men prepared to fight…"

Keladry's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "You want them to help with our little rebellion?"

"What, we've been partners for four years and you're surprised?" Joren frowned when he recognized her change in voice rather than her stony, Yamani expression.

"Frankly, yes."

"What ever. Why don't we let them find and steal the Mirans' spoils? We have to check that eventually."

"Okay. I'll go talk to them about it right now. You get ready to charge the Captain's quarters. There aren't that many guards around and most of the soldiers are still dead asleep and drunk from their late night partying," Keladry said and turning on her heel, marched past the seamstress' back doorway to where she could talk to the woman herself. 

A half an hour later, the charged the Captain's quarters. The very little guards that were present woke up when they were already surrounded by the angry mob. They were quickly beat into submission and tied up with rope. Joren and Keladry watched as the villagers carried them around to the side of the house to be hidden. Then, they stood around, waiting as if a whole legion of demons was to spring out of the earth and fight them.

Joren kicked the front door open and bade Keladry to come with him. 

"Where is he?" Keladry whispered, referring to the captain. They stood tense. 

"There's supposed to be a fight," Joren grumbled.

"Yaaahhh!" A man yelled as he attacked them from behind. Keladry jumped and rolled across the table. As she hit the floor on the other side in a crouching position, she looked to where the sword had splintered the table. She looked back up at the man who quickly crossed the room to continue fighting her. 

"And where in the world were _you_ hiding?!" she exclaimed as she jumped back to avoid the arch of her enemy's sword. She deflected the next blow.

Joren moved forward to help, but he felt a cross bolt graze his shoulder. "Ah! Hey--"

The Captain grinned sadistically. He threw down his crossbow and drew his sword. "If it isn't the big-mouth from the tavern. I should kill you… but I'll just humiliate you again by tying you up naked in the middle of the village road."

"Good luck trying," Joren muttered and swung his weapon first. The two swords clashed with sparks, the clanging of metal on metal echoing through the house. The Tortallian quickly avoided running into chairs. In fact, he paused in between parries and thrusts to kick a chair at his opponent, who in turn destroyed each with one quick blow with his weapon.

"Hey!" One of the villagers yelled to Joren from the doorway. "More soldiers are coming! You've got to help us!"

Keladry spun around from her latest attack on her enemy. She planted one foot in his chest as he charged her. Rolling backward, she used the momentum to flip him over her. She sprang to her feet and raced out the door to where the regiment was starting to come and fight.

"I got it! Watch out for the women, Joren; they'll be here when there's a chance." She called and disappeared from sight.

He heard her, but Joren didn't glance her way. He kept both eyes locked on the Miran captain. 

"I'm going to get you for humiliating Bazal," the Captain said. They started to circle each other. The floor was cleared away of the table and chairs-- those were now chunks of wood and splinters lying in the corners.

"Oh, really?" Joren murmured, not at all interested.

"He is my son," the Captain continued. "You mess with him, you mess with me."  
Joren's eye twitched. "Gods help me, like father like son…"

Outside, Keladry stared at the sudden wave of soldiers. In their professional armor and more suited weapons, they had the upper hand against the villagers. She looked around for any kind of aide. She gasped as she saw something in the corner of her eye. It was one of the young women of the village. She stood far off at a farm-like little house, holding rocks. A few more women stood with her. Keladry got the idea and grinned.

"Fall back, men!" she called to the villagers. They did as commanded, raising their pitchforks, shovels, and staffs in front of them as to ward off any danger. The women let the rocks loose.

"Ow!" Bazal cried as a sharp rock struck him in the face. He rubbed his cheekbone. "What the hell? Get the archers! Kill those damn women!"

"Come on, we're ready!" A spunky girl with golden ringlets shouted and stuck out her tongue. She picked up a rock and hefted it in her hand a bit to get a hint at its weight. Then she let it fly, heading straight for Bazal's…

"_Oof_!" The captain's son doubled over in pain and hit the ground in a fetal position. The other soldiers around him were caught off guard. The village men took this opportunity to charge forward and strike at them with their shovels.

"Ah! Take that!" another woman taunted.

"Argh! They're farmers! Don't let them win!" a soldier with a black beard yelled to his comrades. He cursed when another rock nailed him in the shin. The bearded soldier started hopping around on one foot, grabbing his shin and swearing some oaths. 

Keladry couldn't believe it. The villagers could fight well, she supposed, for being inexperienced. A flash of metal caught her eye. She rushed forward and countered a man's sword thrust just as it was going to hit one of the young men. She swung her sword around and knocked him out with the flat of her blade. She turned now with serious eyes to find another way to even the fight.

Joren spit the blood out from his split lip. It turned out that Bazal's father was better than he thought. He eyed the older man wearily and kept on eye on the window to spot any of the women trying to sneak in and remove the gold and jewels.

"Is… is that all you've got?" Joren panted. 

"You've seen nothing yet!" the captain bellowed and charged at Joren once more. The two men forced their already tiring arms to lift their swords and strike at each other again. They leaned so heavily upon each other that their swords stayed locked at the hilt. Joren gritted his teeth. He tried to overtake the Miran captain, putting in all his brute strength to sway him.

"I. Refuse. To. Give. Up!" Joren said with clenched teeth. "Argh!"

He leaned in with his elbow and shoved the Miran away. Except, their swords were still locked at the hilt, caught in each other's handles. Joren followed the Miran as he hit the floor. The swords clattered as they hit the floorboards, not quite so out of reach. Joren stretched his arm to reach his blade, but grubby fingers closed around his neck. And another hand yanked Joren's hair.

"What is it with," Joren kicked his leg backwards, throwing the man off, "you people?"

Seeing him stunned, Joren dashed over and punched him. He grimaced and rubbed his knuckles. Standing up, he nudged the prone form of the captain with his toe and looked out the window. He could see two women sneaking out some small wooden box. He surprisingly hadn't seen them. Maybe they were better at sneaking around than he thought.

He shook off his soreness and walked out the door, calling to Keladry, who immediately yanked him down.

"Watch out!"

A cross bolt flew overhead and hit the door frame. Joren jerked his head toward the source of the shot and stalked over. He ducked and weaved between fighting men, trying not to get caught as he singled out the man with the crossbow and decked him with one right uppercut. "Damn it! I'm tired of getting shot at!"

Keladry's eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "Somebody's in a bad mood…" She caught a sudden movement. "B-bazal!"

"What?" Joren spun around just as a hand closed over his ponytail. He felt a swift tug, and then it was gone.

A large rock hit Bazal in the head. He sunk to the ground. Joren looked over the men's heads at the girls throwing stones. He shrugged to himself and scratched his head, sudden realizing… "MY HAIR! ITS GONE!"

Keladry winced at his loud voice. She saw that most of the Mirans were now submitting and willingly allowing themselves to be tied. She walked over to Joren who was red in the face. She feigned a look of sympathy.

"It's not so bad…"

Joren turned to the unconscious Bazal on the ground. "We came to this town with long hair. We stand now with haircuts. This guy is going to _get it_ bad."

Keladry shot him a skeptical look. She shook her head. She didn't like that gleam in his eye at all.

An hour after, they came to know that half of the regiment had fled into the woods, waiting for their opportunity to steal back their gold and abandon their comrades. The villagers assured the two Tortallian mercenaries that they could handle whatever happened next without them. Keladry bowed.

"May the Gods grant you luck," she said to them and whistled for her horse. The dark brown mare trotted over. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Yes, we can, thank you," a farmer said, leaning on his staff leisurely. "Take some of the money we got from them. You deserve it."

Keladry frowned. "No, we were only after one thing and it's not included with their loot."

"Oh, but please. Take some," a woman pleaded and quickly thrust a small pouch of coins into Keladry's hands. "Thank you for everything."

She smiled slightly. "Joren and I didn't even do much. You seemed to be taking care of yourselves. Rocks and pitchforks… Who would have thought it would overcome one of the greatest groups of soldiers on this world?"

"Great? Them? No, they were a bunch of lazy slobs!" a young boy cried from somewhere in the back. Everyone laughed, including Keladry. It was quaint and strange at the same time for her. The common folk in their everyday garb wielding normal tools to defeat their oppressors-- and yet, not at all an angry mob.

"A quaint mob," she thought and mounted up. She waved to the villagers and rode out on the road to join Joren where he waited by a tree. She suspiciously inched toward him. "What did you do with Bazal? I don't see him there with the rest."

Joren pointed to a large oak near the edge of the village. She spotted the Miran soldier tied up in its branches, with a shaved head. Locks of his hair were tied up with the leaves, wafting in the breeze. On the surface, her face was still expressionless like stone, but on the inside, she was cracking up. Quietly, she turned to him. "Are you just going to leave him there?"

Joren snorted. "Yes."

She shook her head. "Hey, the hair isn't so bad." They goaded their horses to trot. "I mean, look on the bright side. With short hair, girls won't be mistaking you for a maiden anymore."

"Yeah," he agreed, "And they won't be mistaking _you_ for a maiden either."  
Keladry sighed. "At least I got some money from those grateful villagers-- not that I'm sharing it with you with that sour attitude."

He glared at her. "I'm hurt. Really." The rode in silence for a bit before he said, "We should've asked for food, too."

She nodded. "I was only thinking of the Truth Stone at the time."

"Ugh… wait until Egavar hears about this one," Joren continued. He felt the end of his hair.

"I already told you, it's not so bad! We were this close to getting the Truth Stone."

He stared at her.

"Okay, we weren't. But I can dream," she snapped.

"Another dead end," he groaned.

"Dead end? I hardly think so," she replied. "After all, we're going to traveling this cursed world forever. It never ends."

__

~o/

They made up their minds

And they started packing

They left before the sun came up that day

And exit to eternal summer slacking

But where were going without ever

Knowing the way?

They drank up the wine

And they got to talking

They now had more important things to say

When the car broke down they started walking

Where were they going without even 

Knowing the way?

Anyone can see the road that they walk on 

Is paved with gold

It's always summer

They'll never get cold

They'll never get hungry

They'll never get old and grey

You can see their shadows wandering off 

Somewhere

They won't make it home

But they really don't care

They wanted the highway

They're happier there today

Their children woke up

And they couldn't find them

They left before the sun came up that day

They just drove off and left it all behind 'em

But where were they going without ever

Knowing the way?

~~

Author: well, it's the 1st of December. Sorry I took a whole week, but as I said before: school demands attention (grumble). I hope you liked the chapter, thanks for reading! The song above got me back into the mood for writing after a whole week of no-story-writing. Some of the parts don't fit in to our two heroes' situation, like cars and children, but hey-- I liked it. It's from a band called Fastball. I'm not making money, so don't worry about the copyrights of the song. 

Oh! And one more special treat for you all: I got bored one day in class and drew a picture of the now older Keladry and Joren. They'll look like anime characters, somewhat, only because that's how I'm used to drawing. You'll see I tried not to do anime, but it's definitely noticeable. Go to the following address for the picture.

[http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Harbor/1100/silverdragon/fanfics/keladry_joren.html][1]

OR

http://www.geocites.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/keladry_joren.html

if that doesn't work. Enjoy!

P.S. I'm still welcoming all comments and criticisms!

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Harbor/1100/silverdragon/fanfics/keladry_joren.html



	12. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 11

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 11

By Sulia Serafine

[12-3-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!]

That clear morning, not a cloud was in sight. The sun peeked out over the horizon, warming the city despite the snow that blanketed it. Men and women arose from their slumber and yawned and stretched. Children quickly dressed and went outside to play with the snow. And all was peaceful and pleasant for the world.

"Just because it's pleasant does not mean I have to get up," Joren muttered from under his quilt. They were in a small inn at the edge of the city, sharing a room to save money. Keladry fixed her bed. She smoothed down the quilt and walked around her bed to get to his.

"Well, too bad. Get up, anyway," she said. Joren squirmed under the quilt and groaned.

"Come on! One more hour," he yawned. "Look, this city is snowed in for the season. It's going to be difficult traveling. Why don't we just stay here?"

"I don't find anything here worth staying for," she replied and reached up to yank his covers down. As her fingers closed around the edge of the quilt, Joren tightened his hold on it. "Joren! Stop it, get up."

"Fine!" he yelled back and threw off the covers. He ran his fingers through his mussed hair. "But if we can find a reason to stay here for the rest of winter, may we stay, oh Miss-Keladry-the-Unrelenting-Traveler?"

She threw his shirt at him. "I guess so. I heard there's a few merchants around who sell nice jewels for the season holidays for Dona and Accipio. We can check those out and maybe earn some money doing other practical jobs."

"As if being mercenaries isn't practical enough in a world engulfed by war. I don't see how people can celebrate with the war still on." Joren yanked the shirt over his head. He hastily stuck his arms in the sleeves and reached for his vest. "Dona and Accipio? Oh yes, I almost forgot. The series of holidays where everyone's happy and cheerful, and everyone is so sickeningly sweet that I want to gag."

She glanced at him from where she was looking for her boots. "Is that how you felt about our holidays back home?"

"Yes," he grumbled. "Have you noticed me around this season for the last four years?"

" Last year, he did make us avoid all the cities and we spent the holidays out in the woods," she thought. Aloud, she chided him. "You should be happy and thankful to the gods of this realm that we've lived until now. Our lives aren't easy, you know."

"I know! And I'm not ungrateful. I just wish one of those gods would take some measures to get us home. They know we don't belong here."

"Then if you're good, maybe a god will send you a labafret for your holiday present," Keladry said with a slightly sarcastic tone.

"A Truth Stone, too, please." He actually grinned.

"Of course," she chuckled. "Well, I'm going down to get some breakfast. Join me when you're ready."

Keladry walked to the door. Joren rummaged through his clothes to find his belt. Looking up, he thought of something. He called to her just as she turned the doorknob. She looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"What would _you_ want for the holidays?" His face took on a serious expression, that was the most sincere she'd ever seen from him. 

She blinked, caught off guard by the question. It took her a moment to form words. "I don't know. We've spent so many years avoiding the holidays that I've never really thought about it." She paused. "If we do decide to stay here for the season, aren't we going to spend it in some dead-end bar instead of celebrating?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I was just curious."

"Oh." She abruptly turned and left. 

~~

"Hey, a jewelry shop. Fine stuff in there, eh?" Joren elbowed her. 

"Uh, yeah. You think they'd have what we're looking for?"

"Perhaps. Won't know until we look." He grabbed her wrist and practically dragged her after him.

"As if I wasn't going to follow," she thought as she stumbled after his quick stride. She snatched her hand away when they reached the door to the shop. There was a sign that read "Dalin's Jewelry" and a picture of a diamond ring. They went inside.

The two were amazed. The place was brightly lit with candles, in addition to the high window with stained glass. The streams of colored light and candlelight hit the jewels on display in such a way that they truly shined. The gold and silver were polished to perfection where they lay on black velvet cushions.

A young man leaned on the polished wooden counter in front of the display cases. There were locks on everything, all tiny, but no doubt effective-- they had to have been safe locks or all these precious items would have been stolen long ago.

"Can I help you?" the young man said. "The name's Owen Dalin. I'm the shopkeeper." 

Keladry's eyes widened imperceptibly. "Neal?!" she thought. "He looks exactly like Neal!"

Joren didn't seem to notice. "Yes, I'm thinking of buying something with a nice pretty jewel on it for my betrothed. My sister is here to help me." He glanced at her. Past her normal unfeeling expression, he detected a hint of astonishment.

"Something surprise you, Sister?"

Keladry hoped she wasn't blushing. "Uh, the jewels are nice is all. It will be hard to pick one."  
Owen grinned. "I'm sure we could find something. But it would be hard to match the beauty of any of these 'rocks' to your betrothed, sir, let alone your beautiful sister."

Joren tried not to gag. "Oh, isn't that a nice compliment?"

She forced a smile. It came out all wrong and obviously fake. That was the first time a young man like Owen had said anything like that to her. Especially since she was usually seen in breeches and dirt from some fight. She quietly replied, "Thank you."

They spent the whole day looking at every single jewel in the whole entire shop. Finally, when it was near sunset, they gave up. Joren patted his stomach. "I'm getting kind of hungry. Since I wasted your whole day, Owen, maybe we ought to treat you to dinner."

Keladry became frantic, but being Keladry, she hid it from showing. "Now I'm going to have to spend the evening with the guy who looks like Neal? I'm going to be a mindless idiot the whole night!"

Owen smiled. "That would be great. Would your betrothed be joining us?"

"Uh, no," Joren answered nervously. "She's out of the city for the season."

"It must be awful to be away from the girl you love so much for the whole season."

Joren shrugged. "I'll survive. Keladry?"

"Er, yes?" she asked. Joren stared at her.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine! Just fine!"

"Um, all right. Let's go," Joren said. Owen locked up the shop. They never saw so many different keys and locks in their whole lives. Keladry even noticed some runes of New Magic on the display cases. They left the shop and headed to a tavern right next to Joren and Keladry's inn.

"This place has great food. Have you been here before?" Owen asked.

"Why would we have been here before?"

"I took it that you lived here, although it is strange that you do. I'd be able to recognize almost every citizen's face," the Neal-lookalike admitted. "It's okay. I'm just having one of those confusing days."

"Eheheh… Of course," Joren nodded. He kicked Keladry under the table when she started to fidget nervously in her seat. Owen had been complimenting her all night about how beautiful she was and how great it must be have traveled around so much (Joren had said they used to be a traveling brother and sister merchants, much to Keladry's disgust).

"What the hell is wrong with _you_?" Joren asked when Owen left to relieve himself. 

"I don't know!" Keladry blushed. She couldn't believe she was blushing. _Joren_ couldn't believe she was blushing. She hadn't done that in a long while.

"Well, don't worry. Since we haven't found anything worthwhile in this stupid city, we're not hanging around. We'll stay in the woods this winter," Joren said angrily, propping his elbow on the table.

Keladry's eyes widened. "No! I want to stay!"

"Eh?"

"Did you… you ever notice how Owen looks and acts like Neal?" Keladry whispered. 

"Yes, actually-- a good explanation why I'm growing less and less friendly to the guy every minute," he huffed. "What does that have to do with anything? It's not like it _is_ Neal."

Keladry turned a deeper shade of red, much to her discomfort. Joren stared at her.

"No…"

"Uh, no what?" Keladry timidly asked. Joren clamped one hand over his mouth. He lowered it and leaned toward her so close that their noses were nearly touching. "What?"

Joren grinned. "You…" He started to laugh deep in his throat. He held off his laughter for a moment. Then Joren came closer to her so that his nose actually touched hers and whispered, "You had a crush on _Neal_?!"

She shoved him away and suddenly became engulfed by the fascinating pieces of food on her plate. He burst into loud raucous laughter. Several times, he tried to stop, but it seemed impossible. Keladry finally started to punch him in the arm, making him pause his laughter to cry "ow!" and continue on.

Owen came back to the table. He frowned. "What's so funny?"

Joren stared at him for a moment, then resumed his laughter. Everyone in the tavern stopped what he or she was doing to stare at him. The only sound in the whole place was his hysterical laughter. Kel grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. "Excuse us, Owen. We'll be right back."

It was too late to avoid embarrassment since Joren had literally made a spectacle of himself, but at least she was going to shut him up. Keladry dragged Joren out the door and led him to the alley. There, she punched him-- this time hard in the shoulder. Joren finally stopped to grab his struck shoulder.

"Ow," he said, even though he still maintained a taunting smile. "Hey," he shook his head and dropped his grin. " I just couldn't… resist." He stifled a snicker.

Keladry leaned on the tavern wall and turned her head away from him. "I'm not talking to you."

"Aw, come on! I didn't mean it," he said. He stepped on his own foot when he thought he was going to laugh again. "If you can't face Owen anymore, I'll send him away."

Keladry's head jerked toward him. "Don't you dare!"

He blinked. "What?"

"Er," she scratched her head.

"Forget it," he mumbled. "Let's just go back inside."

"Promise not to laugh?" she said suspiciously.

Joren shrugged. "I promise to _try_ to not laugh."

She sighed. "Coming from you, I guess that's good enough."

They went back inside, where Owen was waiting with confusion written in his features. The other patrons of the tavern glanced their way now and then, but mostly left the three alone. Keladry coughed mildly, nudging Joren to say something.

"Uh, yeah. I'm sorry about that. My sister and I were talking about an embarrassing moment in our childhood and I got caught up in the moment."

"I'll say," Owen shook his head. "You were like a hyena."

"And he'll never do it again," Keladry assured him, shooting Joren a threatening look. He only grinned.

~~

"Thanks for the meal. You two are very… interesting people," Owen remarked with a crooked smile. "Dinner with you two is like a weird family reunion for me. It's like I've known you for years."

Keladry nodded. "Yeah-- us, too."

"That's some weird family," Joren muttered under his breath. Keladry stomped on his foot. "AH!"

Joren hopped a few feet off, cursing. Keladry glared at him before talking to Owen. "That's my brother, for you."

Owen nodded. "Yeah, uh, right." He cleared his throat. "I was wondering, Kel-- uh, you don't mind I call you Kel, do you?" Before she could answer, he continued on quickly, "Because it's like I've known you forever and you're just such a great person and you're so interesting and you can call me anything you want, if you don't like Owen and… and…" He took a breath. "Would you like to go out to dinner some other time? I mean, not with your brother along-- wait! It's not that I don't like Joren or anything. I mean, he's nice, I suppose, although I really don't care for him for some reason-- doesn't mean I won't _learn_ to like him…."

Keladry held up one hand. "Whoa… I don't think I can keep up." She paused. "But I'd love to have dinner with you."

He seemed ecstatic. "Really?! You're not kidding? Because sometimes, my parents say I can go on and on about the most stupid things unless someone beats me to the punch-- you know, like your brother did with the laughing tonight! I really, really hope you aren't annoyed by that, but I only do it when I'm really nervous…and…" He stopped and put a hand over his own mouth. He took a deep breath and lowered his hand. "What I mean to say is, you're a dream come true. And that's why I'm nervous."

She chuckled. "You're definitely flattering."

He put his hands in his pockets. "So, we're going to dinner, say… three days from now?"

"Meet at your shop?"

"After dusk?"

"Nothing fancy?"

"Why, you hate dresses?"

"Don't you?"

He laughed. Then he scratched his chin. "Well, I guess I could wear a dress if you _wanted_ me to, but…"

"I was joking!" she laughed.

"I know. I was 'joking' right back," he said with a tender expression. "So, I'll see you later."

He started walking. She smiled. "Yeah."

"Hey," he called back. "You should smile more often."

Keladry waved. She watched him walk away with a serene look on her face. Joren came up, glaring at her. "Thanks a lot, Sis."

"You're welcome." She patted his shoulder. The started to walk next door to their inn. "I'm going to have dinner with Owen three days from now."

"What?" Joren turned to her. "Why?"

"Because he's nice and respectful, and why not?"

"I thought you wanted to focus on going home!"

She rolled her eyes. "As apposed to you flirting with every pretty girl that walks past?"

He stood indignant. "That's different! I'm not looking for a relationship." He turned and pointed in the direction Owen had gone. "_That_ is the prelude to a relationship. And we are _not_ getting personal with anyone here like _that_." He emphasized each word by stabbing his finger in the same direction and increasing his tone.

She marched past him to the door of the inn. "I'm going to dinner with him and you can't stop me."

Joren growled. He yelled to Keladry from where he stood. "Don't get attached, Kel!"

She turned around while her hand was on the knob and stared at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. "Why not?"

"You'll understand one day," he said. His voice was colder than ice. His blue eyes were stormy from what she could see in the moon's illumination. The shadows of his face seemed to exaggerate the effect. For the second time that day, his face become the most serious she had ever seen. Keladry was going to crumble under that gaze unless she walked away. And so she did, her legs shaking.

~~

Author: I hoped you liked _that_ one! I'm afraid I won't post another chapter until Friday. Same reason as always (and umm…, if you can burn my school, _please_, do so. Address is 1179-- no, can't. As much as I want to, I kind of like my creative writing class. I wonder why…). 

Anyway, I added a new sketch of Keladry and Joren, full body, on the same page I gave you before. Once more, here's the address:

[http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Harbor/1100/silverdragon/fanfics/keladry_joren.html][1]

or

http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/keladry_joren.html

Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. Uh, thanks for everything, I guess. Happy Holidays, guys, in case I forget!

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Harbor/1100/silverdragon/fanfics/keladry_joren.html



	13. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 12

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 12

By Sulia Serafine

[12-5-00. Since, I got an overwhelming amount of responses on the last chapter, I've decided to write this chapter instead of study for a much loathed biology exam. So, if I get a C, it will be out of love of the story. *sniff* You _better_ enjoy this…

This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!]

She smoothed down her skirts. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she wore anything ladylike. Erasing it from her mind, she decided to think about her 'date'. Keladry tapped her foot out of anxiety rather than impatience. What if she suddenly did something so stupid that Owen would never want to see her again? What if he turned out to be a jerk? What if--

"Stop tapping your foot. It's irritating," Joren scolded from his bed. "And some people are trying to get some sleep."

She stopped. "Isn't it a bit early for you to start sleeping?"

"It's been an exhausting day," he replied.

"Right. Hanging around the tavern flirting with girls? You haven't even _tried_ to look for the Truth Stone."

"Owen's is the only shop around. What? You want me to go up to all the nobles in this city and ask to see their jewels? And even then, we would have to _steal_ it from them," He turned over and faced the wall.

"Wouldn't we have to steal the Truth Stone anyway? If we find it in a shop, there's certainly no money to buy it. If it belongs to a noble or anyone else, then we would still have to steal it. If it belonged to the _Mirans_ for goodness' sake! Go out and do something!"

"Argh… Fine. I'll get up right now and take a walk around town. I'll spend my night breaking into fancy houses while you make plans to get married with Neal."

"Owen! His name is Owen!" she reproached angrily. 

He swung his legs over the bed and turned to look at her. His expression was hiding the fury she knew he had. "Yeah, his name is Owen. But I bet all you can see and hear is Neal." He flung on his vest, then his jacket. With a few quick strides, he past her and was halfway out the door before he said, "I frankly feel sorry for Owen. Having to play second to his twin from another life."

He slammed the door behind him. She stood there for a long time. She wanted to throw something, punch something-- anything to get this bad feeling out of her. It was like a bitter taste in her mouth, that no matter how much she spat, just remained-- reminding you every time you moved your tongue. Keladry buried her face in her hands and took a shaky breath. 

"Is Joren right?" she wondered to herself. "Do I want to see Neal rather than Owen?"

She fought down the urge to scream and gripped the door handle. It was time to find out.

~~

"Hey!" Owen greeted her with a broad grin when she appeared at the door of his closed shop. He was still locking up. "So, how have you been?"

"Fine, really. My brother and I are still looking for the right betrothal present for his lady, and uh," Keladry didn't know what to say. She didn't want to lie to Owen. _She_ knew that the jewel they were looking for wasn't for an engagement. And she knew that they were not brother and sister. Lying to someone like Owen made her feel guilty all over.

"Oh, well I hope he finds something nice," Owen nodded. He offered his arm. "Come on. I was hoping we could take go to the other side of town. My friend owns a bakery, and he always lets me sample some of his cake. I'm sure you'd love it. After that, maybe we can take a stroll around the city. Get to talking about each other."

She took his arm. "That would be nice."

They walked slowly to the bakery. It would take an hour at their pace, but Keladry liked it. Owen loved to talk. And it wasn't the kind of talking that bored you out of its continuity, but it rather fascinated you with its content. There were things Keladry had never the time to notice-- and here Owen was pointing it out as if he looked at it every day.

"So, you see, maybe it would be better if they opened up a school around this district. The children need it and I'm not sure home schooling will get them as far. A whole group of friends learning right beside you is comforting, don't you think?"

She nodded. "I went to a place like that."

"You did?" he looked at her with extreme interest. She liked the way he gazed at her. It was just like N-

She shook her head. "Uh, yeah. At first, I didn't fit in, but then someone as kind as you helped me to fit in. Before I knew it, I was friends with almost everyone." She thought of Joren when he was still pestering her with his cronies. "… almost everyone."

"Well, some people never grow up. It's a sad fact, but true."

"Yeah," she said quietly.

They continued walking. Their conversation was filled with the most enlightening things Keladry had ever heard. And there were still a lot of jokes that lightened her mood. It felt good to laugh like that. It was more happiness than she'd felt in a long while. Finally, they reached his friend's bakery. The man was taller than Owen was by half a head's width and also with two children running around his knees. Owen scooped one up and swung her around. The little girl squealed in delight and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. Her golden brown curls bounced as Owen lifted her up and made funny faces at her.

"Hey, Owen," the baker said. He leaned on his broom. "Come to steal a cake?"

"As a matter of fact…" Owen began as he put down the girl.

"Ah, for your lovely lady here, right?" The baker winked at Keladry. "I think I have a little one that would be nice for the two of you. Come inside, please."

They went inside. The bakery was warm to Keladry. "Must be the ovens," she thought. The two children-- a boy and a girl-- ran around the bakery with more energy than she could ever hope to have. "I wonder what it's like to have children," she thought idly, watching the two examples of innocence. Owen reached for her hand.

"Come, have a bite. This cake is delicious."

She gratefully accepted a small piece of cake with fruit and cream on top. Keladry never tasted anything so wonderful. It immediately made her lose the sour taste in her mouth from arguing with Joren earlier. She turned to Owen. "I love it."

Owen finished his a long time before hers. He licked his fingers like a young boy. "Yeah. Isn't he a great cook?"

The baker laughed and leaned against one of his counters. "Yes, and you are a great customer-- even if you don't buy half the things you eat here!"

Owen smiled sheepishly. Keladry laughed.

~~

Joren climbed down carefully from the window. He dropped to the ground five feet off and landed gracefully on his feet. From there he jumped up and yanked his rope down again. All the rope came down at once, falling on him. He swore under his breath and attempted to extricate himself from the coils of rope. He only succeeded in entangling himself further. After a few vicious kicks of his left leg and twisting his arms about him, he flung the rope off and took a deep breath.

"Two houses down. Five dozen to go," he mumbled discontentedly. "Fine jewels _everywhere_ but not one that can keep me from telling a lie." He started coiling the rope properly and carried it on his shoulder. Then he ambled out of the shadows and across the road to the next building, which had three stories. He groaned.

"This isn't fair. Why can't people be happy with living on the ground level?"

He reached for his grappling hook and took it from where it hung on his belt. Then he adjusted the hood he wore over his head to keep anyone from seeing his face. For a few seconds, he fumbled with the rope, tying it with the grappling hook. He hadn't meant to undo it from the rope the two previous times, and now he had to redo it. The brim of the hood fell over his eyes. He pushed it back a little to see the rope. It fell back over his eyes. He pushed it back a little farther. It fell back over his eyes again.

"Argh…" He threw back his entire hood and started tying the rope again. With his task accomplished, swung the rope around to get a good distance throw up in the air. Then he let it fly.

"Perfect," he whispered. The hook caught the edge of the window. There were no lights anywhere in the building. He had a good chance of getting in and out without being caught. He tugged on the rope to test it, then quickly climbed up. "This whole ordeal is a lot easier than I thought it would be."

~~

"So, Keladry, where are you from?"

"From? Uh, I live here, Owen."

"No, I mean originally. Where were you born?" He leaned on one elbow and gazed at her curiously. His eyes were so bright and full of life, she found it hard to look anywhere else but at him. And when you look a person straight in the eye, it's also very difficult to lie to them.

"Far away from here," she finally answered. "It's really a nice place, but I prefer not to live in the past."

By her sudden change in attitude and tone, Owen knew to leave it at that. "Oh. I've lived here all my life. I'll probably live and die in this poor little place, but I don't mind. I can't think of any other place I'd rather be."

"That's good to hear," she nodded. "Would you defend it if the Miran army came this way?"

He tapped his chin. "I suppose so. I like this city. Maybe by then, I'd love it enough to fight for it."

"Do you think women should be allowed to fight?"

"Well, if they have the skill and potential for it, they can do whatever they want. I have no problem with that. What, do you like to fight?" he asked teasingly.

"Actually," she began. She paused. "Yes. Yes, I do."

He frowned. "I thought you and your brother were traveling merchants your whole lives."

"We are," she said.

"You're not lying to me, are you?"

"No," she said quickly. "Why would I lie?" On the inside, she reprimanded herself for being a hypocrite. She spent all that time scolding Joren for lying and avoiding it as much as possible herself-- and here she was doing exactly what she loathed. Keladry pinched the bridge of her nose. Owen watched her calmly.

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah. A little," she confessed. He stood up. 

"It's all right. We've been out for quite a few hours now. I never really talked so much with any one person like this before."

Keladry took his arm when he offered it. "Neither have I. I feel like we can ramble on and on together and never get bored."

"I hope we do," he replied softly. "So, where should I escort you? I want to see where you live."

She blushed. "Live?"

He chuckled. "What? Are you ashamed of where you live?"

"No! Not even. It's just, that we-- my brother and I-- don't normally live like this and--"

"--and to put it all together is that you and your brother fell on hard times and you're living somewhere different," he answered for her. Keladry was instantly reminded of how Joren always taught her to let other people come to their own conclusions. She bit her lip to keep from screaming her frustration.

"It's okay, you know. I couldn't care less. Besides, I should say hello to your brother. I don't know why he seems so naturally distant from me." He stopped in his tracks. She looked at him expectantly. "Is your brother one of those over-protective types?"

She didn't know how to answer that. "Does… does he seem that way to you?"

"Well, I haven't seen that much of him. I can't really say. Does his constant presence bother you?"

Keladry smiled wryly. "If only you knew."

"That's what siblings are for, I guess. I wouldn't know. I was an only child."

"Oh," she nodded sympathetically. "What about your parents?"

His mood lightened up considerably. "They were wonderful people-- hardworking, honest, humble. There was always time for me. No matter what happened, they were there. I miss them."

"I miss my parents, too."

"How long have you and Joren been on your own?"

"I'm not really at liberty to say. I'm sorry."

"I understand. Now, which way to your place?"  
~~

Keladry stopped right in front of the inn. "You really want to come up and say hello to my brother?"

"Why not?"

"Okay. Please be calm if he's mad at us. We are very late coming in."

They went upstairs to Keladry and Joren's room. She fished her key out of her pocket and opened the door. "Hey, Joren, I'm h--"

Joren stood up fast from where he was resting on his bed. Then he immediately grimaced and hopped around on one foot while cradling one bandage wrapped arm. Keladry rushed over.

"What happened?!?"

Owen closed the door after them and also went over to the hurt blonde. "Yes, what happened?"

Joren glared at Keladry, as if blaming her silently for his injuries. Controlling his voice with all his strength to be soft and quiet, he said, "They had a _dog_ in their sitting room."

She blinked. "What?"

" I said: _They had a_ dog _in their sitting room!_ " He sat back down on the bed and grabbed her arm. "Do you know how much I hate dogs right now? That little feral beast! I didn't think 'house pets' would have so many sharp teeth!" He growled. "This is all your fault, you _do_ know that! You said," he cleared his throat to imitate her voice, "_Go out and do something!_ Well, I did, Kel! Thanks a lot! Thanks to you, I have teeth marks all over my leg from that mongrel and some more on my arm!"

Keladry shook her head. "I can't believe it. I'm sorry, I didn't think you would actually do something like that."

"Something like what?" Owen asked. "I'm very confused here."

"Oh, butt out. This is family business," Joren snapped.

"Joren! Stop being so rude!"

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm not in the best of moods here," he held his hands up, "but maybe you can guess _why_!"

Owen got up. "I better go…"

"No, Owen, wait," Keladry pleaded. "Joren will apologize."

"That's okay. I can see everyone is a little bit under the weather anyhow." He smiled weakly at her and went out the door. Keladry sighed and looked at Joren.

"Are you happy now?"

Joren winced when he felt something sore in his leg get worse as he moved to a laying position on his bed. "Well, no, but it's a vast improvement seeing your boy-toy walk out feeling a little neglected and offended."

She punched him in the arm. He immediately clenched his teeth to stifle his cry. "KELADRY!"

She started laughing. Then she covered her mouth with both hands. "I'm sorry! Did that 'feral beast' hurt you there, too?" 

"No. That's when I fell from the window."

She cracked up. "We're supposed to be professionals and sneaking around and fighting, and here you are getting beaten by a dog and gravity!"

"It was a fluke!" he argued.

"Sure it was."

"We've faced crazy generals, more soldiers of the Miran army than we like to admit, and you think I can get beaten by an animal and some stupid environmental obstacle?" he glared at her.

She grinned. "Yes. It is called being human."

"Yeah, well, it's really uncomfortable."

She shook her head and patted his arm. "I'm sure it is. Now why don't you get your poor dog-bitten self to sleep and we can clear things up with Owen tomorrow."

He yawned. "How'd it go with the Neal-guy anyway?"

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't refer to him like that."  
"Fine. How'd it go with Owen?"

"Fine," she answered, mimicking his voice.

"Hmph. If you really like this guy, then so much the worse." He turned on his side and threw his quilt over him, ending the conversation. There was not so much as a goodnight. She hated his childishness. Maybe Owen was right and Joren was over-protective. But why?

"Good night, Spider Boy."

He betrayed his show of defiance towards her by turning and peering at her. "Spider Boy?"

"You know, climbing every building from here to the next district."

He narrowed his eyes. "Haha. Very funny. _Tomboy_."

"Spider Boy."

"Tomboy."

"Spider Boy."

"Tomboy."

"Spider Boy."

"Tomboy."

"You are so annoying."

"I'm _so_ glad you finally noticed."

There was a pause.

"Spider Boy!"

"Tomboy!"

"Ha! Beat you to it!"

"Oh, and this is coming from the girl who despises name calling."

"I blame it on your terrible, terrible influence."

"Ooh… I'm so offended…"


	14. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 13

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 13

By Sulia Serafine

[12-10-00. I'm sorry I took another five days, but trust me. We have the whole Christmas break ahead of us if I'm not plagued by any more projects (which is too much to hope far, sadly enough).

This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!]

Two weeks later

"Hmm… The holidays are definitely here," Owen said. He pointed out the window at the falling snow. It was a beautiful morning. He had come to Keladry and Joren's place to talk for a bit before going back to his shop. Joren was gone before he arrived, but Keladry gladly greeted him. Owen turned to Keladry and frowned. "It's so beautiful this time of year. You mean to tell me that you and Joren have spent the last few years in the woods instead of celebrating?"

"Yes," she answered timidly. 

"It's kind of selfish of him, if you don't mind me saying. Has he ever asked you if _you_ wanted to go into town and see the festivals and parties?"

She shook her head. "No, he hasn't. I don't think he meant to be selfish. There's a good reason why he always takes such extremes."

"Oh really? Why?"

Keladry shrugged. "Actually, I don't know. We may be brother and sister, but trust me. We're just not that close."

The taller young man sensed the deepening sadness in her voice. He put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a small squeeze. Their relationship had grown somewhat in the last few weeks she'd been here. Hopefully it would be enough to convince her to stay with him forever.

"Hey."

"Yes?" She looked up at him with a painfully blank face. He hated how emotionless she could look sometimes, but guessed that he could grow to see past her mask.

"What time do you want to go to the festival of Dona and Accipio?"

"Uh, when does it usually start?"

"Probably at nightfall," he replied. "Wear something colorful. Everyone wears bright colorful clothing."

She looked down at herself. "I'm not colorful enough?"

"Kel, all I've ever seen you and that brother of yours wear is gray, brown, and black. No, you're not colorful enough." He grinned at her and pulled her to her feet. "But I trust you to shock me and leave me speechless at nightfall."

He kissed her on the cheek and left to open up his shop. Keladry placed her hands in her pockets. She sighed. "I hope Owen likes the present I bought him." She walked about the room, a little bored with nothing to do. "Maybe I ought to track down Joren before he spends the rest of the holiday drunk in a tavern, miserable as always."

She grabbed her coat and shrugged it on. Then, she went outside and breathed in the crisp winter air. "The holidays…"

~~

Joren sat atop a merchant's booth, watching the bustling crowd beneath him as they did their last minute shopping for the holidays. He particularly kept an eye on the nobles, who donned their heavy jewelry on this great day. He only wished he could make them line up in front of him to have their jewels inspected. 

"So much easier," he muttered to himself. "Oh, well."

"Hey! Are you coming down?" a girl with straight dark hair and dark skin called. She was the daughter of the merchant whose booth he was sitting on. Joren waved to her and flashed his well-practiced smile.

"I was just about to do that. How am I supposed to talk to a pretty girl like you from all the way up here?" He started climbing down one of the sturdy posts. Her father eyed him suspiciously.

"How long have you been up there, boy?"

Joren barely stopped himself from reacting to the 'boy' part as he always did. He continued to grin, no matter how much it hurt his face. He turned on his charm like a switch and winked at the girl. "Why, sir, I was just there for a few minutes. I've found out from watching all the people that no one can match your daughter's beauty. You're a lucky man to have a girl like Elizabeth."

"My name is Ellena!" the girl exclaimed and folded her arms. She glared at him. Joren grimaced. 

"Eheheh… I said Ellena, didn't I?"

The merchant grabbed his shoulder and pushed him into the crowd. "Off with you! Go charm other girls!"

Joren rubbed his shoulder. He started to walk away. "At least it's good to know that I'm not the only one with a bad mood on this stupid holiday."

~~

Keladry did not succeed in finding Joren, but she did find a dress that was colorful. She stared in the mirror, admiring her reflection. She had to admit she wasn't used to girlish things like these. But she could grow to like it if Owen did. The dress was a shimmering shade of blue and purple, with dark red and yellow embroidery across the front. The sleeves were loose and trailed to her knees. The hem of her dress was trimmed with gold. She even bought some winter flowers to put in her hair. Those reminded her of snow-white tulips and lilies back in Tortall.

"Hunting for a husband this holiday, miss?" asked the man who sold her the dress. "You'll definitely find one before the night is over! Haha!"

Keladry curtsied with a slight smile on her face. "Thank you. This does look nice, doesn't it?"

"Of course! You're a natural beauty!" the man complimented. "I'll give you a good price on the dress."

She bargained with the man and went along her way, carrying the dress in a bundle under her arm.

~~

Nightfall.

Men, women, and children danced through the streets. They wore bright clothing and strange costumes. Some leaned out their windows and threw tiny candies to be caught by those below. Others sang songs and played instruments. Music and laughter filled the air. 

Owen led Keladry through the crowd. He swung her around in circles, grinning and laughing.

"This is incredible!" she shouted to him over the loud people surrounding them. He nodded.

"Are you having fun?"

"Yes! This is great!"

"Come on! Let's go over to the square! They're going to light the Great Torch and pass out presents!"

The two ran through the streets like children. Owen held her hand tightly in his and looked back at her from time to time to smile at her fondly. They reached the square where a choir stood by an unlit torch held high on a platform. The people hugged each other and exchanged gifts. The mayor was seated at long table on the east of the square, sharing his dinner with the common folk.

"Attention everyone! The lighting of the Great Torch is about to commence!"

"Come on, let's go to the front so we can see," Owen said and led her to the front of the crowd. A man and a woman crowned with holly leaves brought two small candles to the torch. They dipped their hands inside the large bronze bowl to touch their flames to the oil. 

The torch was lit. Everyone cheered and hollered. They threw their hats in the air as the man and woman stepped back and the torch was allowed to shine. Owen impulsively leaned forward and kissed Keladry. Her eyes widened at the surprise, but shyly returned the kiss. He finally let go and laughed.

"Happy Holidays, Kel."

"You, too, Owen."

He hugged her and lifted her up off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he swung her around. He set her down and pulled something from his pocket. It was a small box.

"Kel, I have a present for you."

She smiled and touched the flowers on her head to make sure they were still there. She allowed herself to grin. "I have a present for you, also. May I go first?"

He swept out his arm and bowed. "My lady."

She chuckled and curtsied, then presented him with a parcel. He tore through the wrappings eagerly and gasped.

"This… this is beautiful," he whispered. He held up the golden chain to the light to squint at it. There was a tiny charm shaped like a box with runes covering it. 

"It's a ward of Old Magic," Keladry explained with a shrug. "I had a friend of mine send it to me. It's supposed to be a ward of protection."

Owen hugged her fiercely. He deftly slipped the chain over his head and around his neck. "There! Fully protected! I love it." He held up the small box. "Now, my turn…"

~~

Joren threw his head back as he took a swig from the bottle of wine. He snickered to himself and leaned heavily upon a rosy-cheeked girl with freckles and red hair. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

The girl giggled. Joren was close to passing out, but he continued to grin and joke with the other 'celebrating' people of the tavern. They were all dressed up in bright costume, as well. He watched a group of young women dance together with tambourines and bells. He tapped his foot in rhythm with the music. His eyes drooped.

"_Sober up, Joren._"

"Who said that?" he called out, blinking repeatedly and looking around him in an awkward fashion.

"_Get up. Where's your damn holiday spirit, mortal?_"

The blonde's head snapped up. He fell off his stool and chose to look upward at the ceiling as if it were the sky and that was from where the voice came from. "Are you a god?"

" _Does it matter? I have a certain order to how things happen, and you're screwing it up! Get out of this place! Go find that little trinket you saw earlier!_"

"What are you talking about?" He stood up.

"Hey, honey, who are you talking to?" the red head giggled as she encircled him with her arms and planted a kiss on his cheek. He gently pushed her away and stumbled out of the tavern. He shook his head vigorously. He tried to flatten his messy hair some and smooth down his clothing. He was more awake now than he was five minutes ago, for sure.

"Trinket… trinket… Is it talking about that thing…?" He frowned and tried not to get lost in the larger crowd of citizens in the streets. At least all the lanterns and candles lit his way. Even though most of what he saw was blurred, it was lit and that was what mattered.

"Oops, 'scuse me. Pardon me. Coming through!" he said over and over again as he shuffled past.

~~

Early, early morning.

Keladry slipped inside her room. There were still people celebrating out in the streets. Even though they made a lot of noise, no one would complain. Every single person in the city must have had his or her share of fun. She yawned and took out the flowers from her hair, setting them down on her trunk. Then she sat down on her bed. Keladry stretched her arms over her head. 

"Owen," she whispered. She gazed down at the silver ring on her finger. He did not propose. No, that would be ridiculous. It was too early to propose. He just asked her to consider staying long enough for him to propose later on. And she had said yes.

In the back of her mind, she felt unsteady about the idea of marrying there and giving up the quest to go home. She would never see her family or her friends again. Keladry shook off the thought. She was about to get up and go behind a screen in the corner of the room to change when she felt something beside her leg. 

"What is this?" she thought and held up the small object to the light of the lanterns outside their window. She glanced over at Joren's sleeping form. "Did Joren buy this?"

It was a tiny ivory cat, painted with bright colors and detailed with the utmost precision. She examined it carefully, turning it over and over in her hands. She couldn't believe it. Keladry scampered to Joren's bed and sat down on the edge. She shook him by the shoulder. "Joren. Joren, wake up."

The young man in question yawned and turned over. His head ached. He shouldn't have drunken so much. Maybe this was a message that next year, he would just stay out in the woods instead of go to a tavern. He lazily rubbed his eyes. "What?"

"Joren, did you buy this?" she held out the cat in front of his nose. He squinted and moved his head back to get a better look at it.

"Yeah," he confirmed and laid his head back down. She could hear a soft snoring. She shook him again. He groaned. "What?"

"Why?"

Joren yawned. "It's your damn holiday present. And for that painful exertion on my part to actually participate in this damn holiday, don't expect us to be in the city next year."

Usually, Keladry would be offended. But the fact that he bought her a little cat that looked so much like her lucky cats from the Yamani islands was just endearing. "Why did you buy this for me? I don't think you ever knew about them."

Joren blinked his eyes a few times before answering in a completely sober voice. "The first year that you were a page, you gave one of those to Neal. The guy showed it to _everyone_ so many times that even I was tempted to break it."

She smiled. "Thank you, Joren. It's the best present I've ever received."

He turned over. "Oh, Gods. Don't start getting soft on me. Ugh."

"Sorry. I forgot your reputation," Keladry chuckled. She stood up and went behind the screen to change. She glanced at her ring again. 

"Should I tell Joren?" she thought.

After a few seconds, she shook her head. "… Best present I've ever received…"

~~

Author: Hmm… It's not even Christmas, yet I've already done the holidays special. Oh well. I hope you liked it. Please, tell me what you think. I'm not used to writing pleasant fluff stuff. (Ask Edal Besrever. She'll tell you I was a former angst professional.) Again, sorry for the long wait. Christmas vacation will make up for it. Well, it should.


	15. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 14

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 14

By Sulia Serafine

[12-14-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned! **Lots of swearing in this one!!!!**]

Joren rolled over in bed. Sunbeams presently struck his face from the window. The warmth and light roused him slowly. He blinked away his blurred vision and yawned. Stretching like a cat, he realized he was too lazy to do anything more than sit up. And so, he did and looked around him. He spied the girl slumbering in the bed next to his. He didn't see this often because she was always up before him. "Hey, Kel. Wake up."

She awoke with a jerk. Keladry wasn't used to being woken up by others-- especially Joren. "What time is it? I can't believe I overslept."

"Were you up late last night?" he asked as he managed to swing his legs over the edge of his bed. Now the next test came in whether or not he wanted to stand up and abandon his cozy bed. He sighed and stood up.

"I hope it wasn't late," Keladry mumbled. She clambered out of bed. Then she smoothed down the covers and arranged the pillows. "I'm sorry. I was out with Owen again."

Joren watched her jog behind the screen to change clothing. "Yeah, about that, Kel. The snow is melting. We'll be leaving soon. Have you told Owen this?"

She bit her lip. She was hoping he would not ask that question. At the moment she held her shirt over her head. Keladry slowly slipped it on and continued to dress without responding to his question. Joren grew impatient.

"Well?"

"No," she said and walked out from behind the screen. She got on her knees. With a flick of her wrist, the top of her trunk flipped back and she sorted through her things to find her favorite gray vest. She put it on, completely ignoring the blonde young man standing a few feet away. He had a cross look on his face.

"Then do it today." He paused, softening his voice so he would not sound so stern. "I know how much you care about him. Tell him today. The more you wait, the more it will hurt him."

Keladry winced inwardly. She had waited a good week and still had not told Joren about her 'engagement'. And now that they were supposed to leave, it would hurt Joren more than if she had told him a week ago. He was expectant that she would come with him to find their way home. That was the way things were-- the way they had always been.

"For years," she thought sadly. She stood up, having closed the trunk. "I'm not telling him."

"What?" Joren stared at her. "Are you just going to leave without him knowing?" He put his hands on his hips. "Oh, I get it. You don't want a long sappy goodbye, so you'll just avoid it altogether. That's a good idea, but I have to admit it isn't like you."

Finding courage, Keladry looked up at him. "I'm not going to leave."

It seemed like everything stopped. All the events in the universe rested where they were to listen to the intensity of silence between the two companions. If there were noise and movement outside that room, then it was forgotten from history and written word. All the world existed in that moment and everything before and after was completely irrelevant from this life.

Keladry's throat was dry. She swallowed hard, trying to find more courage deep within her to continue speaking. Unfortunately, it remained wishful thinking. She stayed quiet, nervous and feeling guilty about that expression of hurt and betrayal in the young man's face. The shame grew until it was no longer possible for her to look at him anymore. She lowered her gaze to the floor. Keladry became determined to keep her stone mask. It was not a good idea to be emotional at that moment. If she was going to stay, she had to be firm against Joren-- even if it unnerved her like nothing else had ever before.

The silence drove her crazy. He continued to stare at her, but now there was a mixture of disbelief in his features. She corrected her gaze and second time and tried to keep her eyes on his feet.

"No," Joren whispered at last. Keladry breathed a sigh of relief. She had anticipated screaming and shouting. She was wrong.

"No, you _can't_! What's wrong with you? We have to go home, damn it!"

And there was the screaming and shouting. She was right.

"Joren, you don't understand. I have to stay--" she began.

"No! No, you don't! No!" The single syllable word became a repetitious chant for him. "Why stay? We have everything waiting for us on the road! You know we do not belong here." His voice was hissing at her like a cobra.

She pursed her lips. He continued.

"Are you mad?!"

"Perhaps," she replied.

He glared at her. "I can't believe you would even consider such a stupid thing. Why? _Why?_"

"Damn him!" she thought. He was making her so angry from his shouted insults that she didn't care how she hurt him now. She raised her left hand violently for him to see the ring. She shook her hand. "This is why! So leave me alone!"

Joren gaped at it. "Don't tell me he… he…"

"He didn't. He just asked me to stay and see what happened. And I said yes," she said calmly and evenly. Keladry lowered her hand and concentrated on holding up her stone mask. But Joren knew how to see past it. He'd been around long enough to see through it.

"I can't believe you of all people actually did that!" he yelled. His cheeks were becoming flushed with his shouts.

"Why?!" She screamed back. The mask fell away. "Is it so hard for you to believe that I can find happiness and you can't? That I'm going to forget about being a knight? Well, I'll tell you what Joren. It's too late for that. Look at us! We aren't Tortallians anymore. We aren't…" She shook her head. "Don't you see? It's too late. We aren't going home."

Joren backed away. He pointed a blaming finger at her. "No! I'm not giving up! Giving up is for weaklings. We're going home. _We_!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, I didn't know you cared, _Joren_. But you know what else? You're not in charge of me. I don't care if you're older. I don't care that you had the greater fucking seniority. Just because you say _we_ are going home does _not_ mean I have to do what you say!" 

His name sounded like a curse to him from her lips. He returned her harsh words with a few of his own. "I agree with you. You don't. It's none of my damn business if you marry Owen and never go home." He started for the door. "It's fucking sad, Kel. You don't love him. You damn well know it. You love Neal. You always loved Neal. I damn well know it better than you'll ever know." He flung the door open. "I'll go home and tell your family and tell Neal _everything_! It's pathetic. One day, you'll wake up and realize you've wasted your life with the shadow of the man you really care about. "

"Fine! Go ahead! I don't care! Get out!" 

"Fine, I will!" He stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him. Before Keladry could let out a deep shuddering breath, the door opened again and Joren gave her the coldest stare.

"And by the way, have a nice life. No, let me correct that. Have a nice fake life."

And then he was gone.

~~

She left to wander the streets all morning. When she returned, all his belongings were gone. He had already left. Keladry hardened her heart. She was still reminded of how terrible they had fought that day. That must have been the worst bout of verbal abuse they had ever done.

"All we ever do is fight. We never learned to do anything else," she thought. Mechanically like an automaton, she walked downstairs and informed the innkeeper that she would be moving into a one-bed room. He looked at her oddly, then seemed to understand through the hollowness in her voice. He told her which one she could move into and she thanked him.

After an hour of moving her accumulated belongings into the new room, she set out to find herself a job. That entire winter, Joren had been out doing odd jobs while Keladry uncharacteristically spent her time with Owen. She would never ask Owen for money, so she had to find employment. Before the sunset, she found a job surprisingly with both the blacksmith and the weapons dealer-- they were brothers. They recognized her knowledge of weapons and skill. She didn't even say a word before they asked her if she were a former soldier. Keladry confirmed that she was a mercenary.

And they actually smiled. 

It was strange how anyone could smile that day. She thought that everyone in the whole entire city knew what happened to her, that perhaps they all heard the argument shouted loud enough for the world to hear. A little voice inside her asked, "Don't they know? Don't these people know anything? Isn't it obvious that I've just lost everything from these last four years?" 

Keladry was informed that she was to start as soon as possible. They agreed on hours of work and a salary. With that, she left.

Again, she started wandering until she wound up at her potential husband's home. She trudged up the steps and knocked wearily on the wood. "It's me."

There were footsteps. Owen opened the door. But his smile turned into a frown when he saw that she didn't greet him as warmly as she always did. "Is something wrong?"

She blinked. "No."

He opened the door wider and let her in. As they walked into the sitting room, he asked again. "What is it?"

"I told you, it's nothing."

He hated it when she didn't trust him enough to say what she felt. 

"Please, tell me."

"I don't want to," she glared at him.

He hated it when she treated him like everyone else instead of the man she loved.

"Why not?"

"Because." 

And he hated her mask of hidden emotions. It was difficult to love her like he did-- very, very difficult. As if never noticing before, Keladry saw the hurt on Owen's face and sighed. She took a moment to think out what she was going to say.

"My… brother… and I had a falling out of sorts."

Owen became filled with concern. "I hope it wasn't too bad. What happened?"

"He's gone," she said bluntly and sat down on one of his chairs. Owen dragged a chair right next to her and also sat.

"That bad? Oh, Gods, Keladry I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Owen. Thanks."

She watched him get up to get them drinks and idly started to stare out the window at the birds in the sky. Keladry wondered where her greatest friend had gone.

~~

Days. Maybe weeks. He didn't keep track. He just kept riding until he reached the one sanctuary he knew he could rest in without fear. And after what seemed like an eternity, he reached it.

The familiar stream flowed before him. Joren squatted down and squinted at it. Yes, that was the same stream. With an assured mind, he went behind a large tree and brought out the two hidden fishing poles he knew were kept there. One he stuck in the ground like a spear, the other he took into his hands as he sat on the bank and let his line drop in the water.

He waited a few seconds before calling out, "Well, are we going to fish or what?"

Egavar appeared beside him, taking the second fishing pole out of the ground. The Nodestrum sat down beside him and also let his line fly. "Yes, fish. I didn't cook dinner yet."

There was a comfortable silence between the two friends. Joren knew that the older man would understand-- understand that Joren didn't want to talk about it and at the moment, he just needed to be there like it was any other day.

It was getting dark. The sky already became tinted with orange, then red, then finally purple. Egavar stood up and held his catches up to the dying light. "These are good. I hope you have a nice appetite."

Joren looked back at the stream as he put their poles away. "How is it that there are always the best fish in this tiny stream?"

"Magic."

He smiled at the response. Joren whistled to his horse, which started trotting down the widened path meant for it to the cottage. They started walking. "Hey, Egavar. You don't mind that I stay with you for a while, do you? I can sleep in the tree. I happen to like that tree."

"Sure, I don't mind. You just have to tell me sooner or later what's wrong-- and by the way, sooner is preferred." 

"Yeah, I figured as much," Joren nodded. 

"You can start with where Keladry is."

"Days away from here, settling down with some guy," he answered. "She's given up on going home."

"Wait," Egavar stopped in the middle of the trail. Joren stopped as well and looked back at him. "Is this about you disliking the guy she's going to marry or you wanting her to continue the quest for home with you?"

"Go home with! What else?" Joren snapped. "After all these years-- to just give up like that!"

Egavar clapped a hand down on his shoulder. "There's more to it than that. There always is."

"Oh? Like what?"

"You tell me," he shrugged and continued walking down the path. "And by the way, if you snore, I'll cut down the tree."

"I don't snore anymore."

"You're lying."

"How do you know?" Joren asked with a chuckle.

"Because you're definitely not holding a Truth Stone."

"Oh, nice one," he replied sarcastically.

"Hey, I've had years of practice."

"More like decades, huh, old-timer?"

"Don't start."

Egavar continued to walk ahead while Joren followed. The blonde now had his own sort of stone mask of hidden thoughts and emotions, modeled after his former companions. He carefully put it on, hoping to never take it off again.

~~

Author: 12/15/00 I hope I continue to please you all. I know this seems like a major drop in the story (a. k. a. depression), but things do pick up. And since I have always categorized this series as an action/adventure, perhaps I will return to that setting. Until then, thanks for reading and reviewing. Happy Holidays to all, there's more to come.


	16. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 15

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 15

By Sulia Serafine

[12-17-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!]

Owen and Keladry sat watching the dying light in the sky. Neither of them spoke. Owen put his arm around her shoulders. He shuddered inwardly when he felt how cold she was. "Do you want to go inside?"

She glanced at him briefly. "Not really. We can if you want to."

"No, that's okay. You just seem a little chilled. Here, take my jacket." He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She gave him an appreciative smile and returned her gaze to the horizon. Owen opened his mouth awkwardly. He wanted to start a conversation. She always loved their conversations because they were so full and fascinating. 

"Perhaps I can entrance her with it all over again," he thought longingly. "She's slipping away. Gods, I don't want her to. She's not the perfect match for me, but I don't care. She's worth it." The young man sighed and hunched his shoulders. Keladry looked over at him, as if finally seeing him for the first time that day. Her head was clouded with so many things.

"I'm sorry," she thought and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll try to be better at this. I have to be. I want to have… have a nice life." She bit her tongue to keep from making any sort of frustrated noise.

All of a sudden, a few buildings in the distance blew up. Owen and Keladry fell backwards off the bench they were sitting on. They landed in a pile of old wheat bags and hay. Owen scrambled over to Keladry. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she responded. "What's going on?"

Another burst of rock and flame went up in the air as another building exploded. They threw their arms over their heads to protect themselves from the falling debris. People screamed and ran in the streets. A peace-keeper waved his arms trying to gather everyone's attention. "We're under attack! The Mirans are here! Escape to the inner district! Get out of here!"

An arrow ripped through the air and struck the peace-keeper in the chest. He grabbed the shaft for a moment, staring at it in disbelief. Then his legs buckled beneath him and he fell dead to the ground. Keladry stared at his body, the blood pouring out over the street. "Gods, no. Not here."

"We have to escape!" Owen cried, reaching for her hand. She looked at him as if he were a stranger. "Keladry! Come on!"

"We have to get our stuff," she protested, running inside.

"There's no time! They're catapulting flaming cannonballs at us! There are soldiers invading the outer districts!"

Keladry shook her head as she stuffed most of Owen's jewels into a sack and food as well. "Get some blankets, clothing--anything! I'll get my sword from Rodger's…"

"Are you crazy? We can't fight! Let's go, Kel, please!"

She dropped the bag. Keladry grabbed his shoulders. "Do you trust me?"

He tried to ignore the chaos going on behind him through the doorway. He gulped. "You know I do."

"Then trust me when I tell you to run with this," she shoved the sack into his arms, "and get to the inner district and allow me get my sword. I'm not letting them take this city. Not this one." She examined his face. There was so much anxiety there. And fear, too-- not from the invasion of the Miran army, but… for her. She cupped his face. "Everything's going to be fine. I'm not dying until I get married. I'll just fetch my sword and meet you later."

He grinned despite himself. "If you say so. Be careful." With that, he kissed her on the cheek and ran out the door. He shouted that he loved her as he ran, and if she didn't come back, he was going after her. She shook her head.

"I'm insane," she mumbled as she ran out into the street, determined to get to the weapons dealer she worked for. People ran past her, holding crying children and whatever possessions they could grab. The world around her crumbled as the ground shook. She pushed onward and gritted her teeth. She could see the tunics of the Mirans in the distance. Keladry would always know what they would look like. After all, she had seen them destroy one city after another, enslaving and capturing the good people of this world. Before, she didn't think she had the guts to stand up to them _alone_, after her near death experience years ago. The thought still held when she helped that village purge itself of the regiment of Mirans-- despite the act she put on.

But this was much different. This was now _her_ city. This was where Owen lived, and where she wanted to live as well. They weren't going to take away this one chance of happiness-- not if she could do anything about it.

"Rodger! Rodger! Wait!" She spotted the weapons dealer sprinting out of his home and screaming to his brother the blacksmith. "It's me! I need weapons if I'm going to fight!"

Rodger reached her and hugged her. "You're safe! Don't fight, Keladry. Even with your skills, you can't do this alone. If you must have them, take the weapons and escape with us. We can fight them later!"

She wanted to argue, but they would not let her. The brothers allowed her to run in and drag out some weapons, as well as her own sword. They fled with the rest of the citizens to the inner district. The sky became black, filled with the smoke of burning homes. The sounds of sobbing people distressed her. It was like a war.

Wait, she corrected herself. It was a war. Her war. This _thing_ with the Mirans had been that way since the beginning of her quest. Why did the two Tortallians not fight for so long? Wasn't it in the codes of chivalry that they were to defend the small and weak? Instead, they stayed out of the war and wanted a way home. Why did she lose herself for so many years? 

"This is our home. We aren't Tortallians anymore," she thought as she stopped right outside the inner district's gates. Rodger and his brother went back to grab her by the arms and drag her inside. "That has to be why were thrown into this world. Don't you see it, Rodger? Collin? We were destined to fight this war, not go home. Fate dealt it… Let me go! I have to fight!"

"She's gone crazy!" Rodger shrieked as the two middle-aged brothers finally brought her within the district's walls. "We have to find Owen. Where is he?"

"It's why I've been so empty for so long," she thought, still entranced with the destruction her vision beheld. "I wasn't missing love, or strength of mind and will. It was the fight… the glorious fight."

The ground shook once more as a ball of flame passed over their heads and crashed into a part of the wall. Keladry broke free of the two men and ran toward it, where a few children were knocked to the ground. She helped them up and ushered them away from the flaming mess. After, she left them and climbed up a ladder to join some peace-keepers from where they stood on battlements.

"What are you doing? Get down, miss, you'll be hurt!" a young officer exclaimed

"You're going to need my help," she said calmly and stared into the man's green eyes. "Don't tell me to get down."

He swallowed nervously, understanding exactly what sort of person he was talking to. "Right. Talk to Captain Julius."

She nodded and strode across the battlements to a man whose tunic crest identified him as the captain. She caught a glimpse of destruction from the corner of her eye. Beyond the wall was anarchy. Chaos. War. 

And she would fight it... to the death.

~~

It was early morning. Owen had walked around in circles for hours trying to find Keladry. His pounding heart finally resumed its normal, steady beat when he spotted her talking to one of the city's soldiers. "Kel! Kel, you're okay!"

She looked up as he approached. There was something different about her, but he dismissed it from his mind. She put on a fake expression of relief. "Oh, you're okay. I can't believe I forgot to look for you."

"Forgot?!" 

"I didn't mean it like that," she apologized. "I was so caught up in helping people trying to get inside and talking to the peace-keepers to see if I could fight among their ranks."

"You're going to fight with the peace-keepers?" he said in a squeaky, high pitched voice. He cleared his throat. "But…"

"Yes. It's not like I don't know how to fight, remember?"

He stared at her for at least one second before he hugged her. "I don't care, anymore. Do whatever you want. Be whatever you want. I don't mind that you're showing more emotion toward this war than you are with me. As long as you are showing this beautiful emotion of yours."

She sighed. "Thank you for understanding." He grinned at her. Keladry knew something was suspicious. She raised one eyebrow. "What are you going to do?" 

He shrugged. "Fight beside you."

"You can't!"

His grin widened. "Now what was it that Joren always called you? Miss Hypocrite?"

She reddened. He knew her too well. It seemed wrong. After all, their city was under attack and here they were grinning at each other. "Stop that. Okay, we'll fight this together. Don't you die on me."

He kissed her. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Now, what did the captain say?"

"The mayor and the other high officials have decided that we are going to retaliate sometime before noon. Here, take this sword. You know how to use one, right?"

"I'll manage. Just stick me somewhere near the back," he muttered.

"I wouldn't let you die," she whispered and hugged him. "You mean too much to me, and besides, who would talk to me endlessly for hours and hours?"

"You could train a parrot…"

"Not even one of those special birds could talk as long as you."

"Should I be taking that as a compliment or an insult?" Owen wondered as he followed her to get some armor. The young man looked up at the sky. It was getting darker by the second, but the smoke and ash upon the winds furthered the effect. He could almost swear he heard the wind spirits moan as he crossed the square and went inside, where the smoke did not follow.

~~

Joren lifted the ax up in the air. He brought it down on the wood, which split neatly into two pieces and fell off the stump. Then he reached down and placed another, ready to be chopped. The youth took a second to wipe the sweat off his brow and look at the sky. Somewhere in the midst of that vast sky, there was a flaw. He put down his ax and continued to stare at it. 

"Why don't you paint a picture? It'll last longer," Egavar remarked as he came outside. Joren blinked and glanced at him.

"Oh, sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, friend. What were you thinking about?"

He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. My head's a mess."

The Nodestrum nodded. "Hmm… Well, come inside. You can have your lunch, and then sleep off the rest of the afternoon in the tree."

Joren arranged the timber into stacks, then put away the ax. He trudged inside, stretching his arms over his head. The older man set soup on the table. "Why are you dressed up?"

"Going into town," he simply replied.

"Oh, okay." He frowned. "Are you getting supplies, or is this something else?"

Egavar looked at him sharply. "You don't need to know, Joren. Just have your soup."

Startled by his friend's uncharacteristic hostility, he abruptly sat down and began to consume the soup. Egavar grabbed a tiny bag of coins off the table and left without so much as a 'goodbye'. Joren stared after him. "What's wrong with this picture? Egavar, being cold and stern? Going to town and not telling me why?"

He wanted to follow, but he was apprehensive that Egavar would catch him and cast some of his more powerful spells on the youth. So, he washed his bowl after lunch. Then, he went outside to sleep in his favorite tree.

~~

__

Swords clashed.

The fire-- Gods, how it burned. The heated air is filled with smoke…

And cries of death.

Soldiers. Miran soldiers. Why are they so bent on killing and conquering everyone?

Do they not know that sooner or later, someone would rise against them and destroy evil?

That's the way the story goes. Doesn't it always happen that way?

Blood. Fire. Smoke. There it goes again.

Arrows in the sky pelt the reinforced walls. It will crumble soon. I pity those who are still left quivering in the shelters. 

People are going to die. Innocent souls are going to be sent up to their makers. It isn't fair. They have to reach within themselves and fight. They have to be taught how to find courage. They mustn't believe they will not survive. If soldiers did that, their concentration would be tainted by the ugly fear. A soldier would slip up, just like others before him who could not handle war.

Just like him. I see him. He's there, not too far. No, wait. It is far. I can never get to him. Why is he there?

The sword is crashing down upon him. I couldn't reach him. Gods, no. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. Why can't I get through the battle? Let me through! Get out of my way! He needs my help before it's too l….

He calls to me. Across the distance, my greatest companion is in danger.

His eyes. His face. I'm never going to see them again, am I?

Damn you, Gods. I forsake you for doing this to me.

Damn you, Fate. You either bring an empire to glory, or a man to the pits of an inferno.

And I damn myself. For living here and now. I scream.

"OWEN!"

~~

Joren fell out of the tree. He cried out as he hit the ground and immediately righted himself. "What the… Gods, no. What was that? Is it… Keladry?"


	17. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 16

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 16

By Sulia Serafine

[12-20-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

P.S. No, I'm not getting bored with this story. It's going to be around for a while. In truly great stories, not everything is perfect in the sense that there are a set group of heroes, they struggle, and all of them live after defeating their enemy. Something has to go wrong. There's always loss, right? Please, don't be upset with me. I want this story to be true to everything I believe is most realistic. I'm not sure if I can get another chapter out until after Christmas, so happy holidays and thanks for making my story a success.]

When Egavar came back from town, Joren was packed and saddling his horse. There was a fierce look on the youth's face that let the Nodestrum know that something was horribly wrong. "Joren?"

He looked up. "Oh, you're back. Sorry, but I have to go… Something's happened."

The older man approached him with a hand over his own mouth. "You mean, Keladry?"

Joren closed his eyes and bit his lip. "I don't know. I just felt something really bad course through my veins and I knew I had to go. Do you want to come?"

"If you don't know what it is, where will you go?"

"To her, I guess. Best place to start, right? Go pack and say goodbye to your cottage again. We're in for another road trip," he said in a sarcastic voice to drown out the troubled part of his mind. "And this time, bring earplugs so you don't have to complain about my snoring."

Egavar went inside. He moved to take off his cloak, but he realized he was going to leave anyway, and left it on. "I don't see how the boy can joke around at a time like this. Maybe it just comforts him," he thought. "No matter. We have to leave as soon as possible."

He packed all the necessary items and met Joren outside within five minutes. 

"Are you sure that's all you're going to do? Anything else?"

"The cottage can take care of itself. The woods can, too. After all, this is _my_ enchanted forest," Egavar shrugged. "Let's go."

"Right. Old Magic… Enchantment," Joren murmured as he saddled up. "Enchantment has just made my life so much easier… yeah, right." He rolled his eyes.

They rode for a week. Joren was so pressed to get there, he hardly allowed them to stop. This cut days off their time, and although tired and weary, they finally arrived at the city where Keladry now lived-- well, what was left of it, anyway.

The cobblestones in the street were overturned. Buildings that Joren remembered from his time there had collapsed, or burned. The charred remains of other structures and-- to their surprise-- people as well littered the streets. Wounded men and women sorted through the debris to recover objects, or corpses to bury alongside the skirts of the city. Ash and soot covered the faces, so that they all looked alike-- dark lifeless dolls jerkily moving along as if someone had strings attached to their limbs. One man was without an arm. 

"What happened here?" Egavar asked an old man. 

"The Mirans, that's what," the old man bitterly replied. "Please, please. I need food for my grandchildren. They burnt down everything. My son and daughter-in-law are dead!"

Egavar quickly gave him some of their supply. The old man's desperate plea frightened him. No doubt, many of the citizens were reduced to sobbing, pitiful wretches. He led his horse over to Joren. "We have to find Keladry. She may be… may be…"

"Don't say it," Joren hissed while grabbing Egavar's collar. He let go and took a deep breath. "I can see the inn from here. It's mostly intact. Go to the inn and, see if she's there. I'll go to Owen's place. Stay there until I come for you."

He nodded and walked away. Joren nervously reached for the hilt of his sword. Why, he didn't know. The fighting was obviously over. Peace-keepers wandered around the city, spectral soldiers whose minds were still battling evil. Some of the more 'healthier' ones were busy helping the citizens. Joren wanted to fight. He wanted to slit throats for what had conspired here. And if possible, he wanted the blood of the Miran soldiers to flood the Miran Empire so the emperor drowned in it.

After walking solemnly for minutes, he arrived at Owen's jewelry shop. The brilliant windows were smashed. Shards of glass were scattered across the ground. The door was missing, and the walls of the outside smeared with blood. He swallowed hard, for his throat was dry and scratchy. Hesitantly, he took a step forward. "Hello?"

There was movement. He moved back. Aware of his cowardice, he set his mind and boldly strode into the shop. "Gods! Kel!"

She sat on a stool-- one that she recovered from the rubble next door. Her face was smeared with blood and dirt, almost like some primitive animal. Her clothing was torn and dirty. There were numerous dents in the armor recklessly discarded on the floor. Her sword lied on the floor, still covered in blood. Keladry would never let her sword stay like that. She would have cleaned it by then. Her eyes were directed at a jewel she missed before the battle, and had not given to Owen. In fact, the sack of jewels and possessions stayed at her side.

Joren reached out to touch her. Then he pulled his hand back. She was untouchable. With that blank face, staring at the jewel like a zombie, her mind was not with her. It was somewhere miles away. 

"Joren, you're here," she whispered without looking at him. He bristled. Her dead voice startled him beyond imagination. It was like she was a corpse herself.

"Kel, what happened? Are you okay?"

She finally turned to regard him with icy unfeeling eyes. "The Mirans attacked us for days… I… I mean, _we_ fought. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. And he wandered away during battle. I couldn't rescue him. He was killed by a sword driven through his chest."

The lack of emotion in her words made him shiver. He slowly walked over and joined her at staring at the jewel. "Owen…? I'm sorry. I know how much he meant to you."

"Meant to me?" she asked with a rising inflection. "You said I didn't love him and I was substituting him for Neal."

He winced inwardly. "I know. I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did. And by the way, Joren, stop trying to play it off. I don't want your sympathy. Say what you think. That's the best thing you can ever do for me." Now there was emotion in her voice. It was hatred.

"I know no matter how many times I say I'm sorry that you won't forgive me. And I deserve it," he said. He ran his hand through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. "But, please. Let's get out of here. There's nothing more either of us can do." He paused. "And Egavar's waiting for us at the inn."

"I'll join you later," she replied. He examined her skeptically.

"If you say so." With that, he walked out. When he was gone, she looked up again and watched his retreating form.

"I forgive you."

~~

"The armies have moved on to the capital. I'm going there to fight." It was the first thing out of her mouth when she walked into the inn. Egavar's jaw dropped.

"What? Are you crazy?" he shouted. 

"Maybe," she said. She felt like she had said it before…

"You'll be killed," Joren said. His lips curled into the beginning of a sneer. "Don't do it. It's pointless."

"I have to try. And if I get killed, that's fine."

"Fine? _Fine_?!" Egavar jumped up from his seat. "You _want_ to die? Look, I know you're sad about your betrothed dying, but… but… you can't do that! You have so much to live for!"

"Do I? I don't want love. I don't want peace of mind. I was born to fight. That's why we're here. We're never going home."

Joren slammed his mug down on the table. "Stop it, damn it! I'm tired of that attitude. If I had known you were going to grow up to be such a depressed maniac who doesn't know the value of her own stupid life, then I would have killed you right there and then! What the hell happened to the Keladry we know?"

"She died."

There was silence. Egavar sat back down and stared at his hands. Joren looked back at his mug and took a tiny sip. The conversation was officially ended by the two whispered words. Keladry continued to stand like a statue, only moving her eyes to watch for any reaction her two comrades may have. She finally gave up and sat down.

"When are you going?" Joren asked after ten minutes.

"In the dark of night. I won't be spotted."

"You will if there are Kodestrums," Egavar pointed out. His voice was still filled with outrage, but he settled for clenching and unclenching his fists. "Sweet Nodh willing, you'd make it as far as the province's border."

"Fine. Then come with me," she shrugged. Impassivity wavered in her eyes.

"We'll both go," Joren said. "I don't trust you. You'll try to get yourself killed out there and your parents will undoubtedly have my head when I return to Tortall."

"I promise not to if you stop speaking about Tortall, the land we're never seeing again."

Joren opened his mouth, but Egavar kicked his shin. The blonde glared at the Nodestrum. "Fine with me."

"Fine," Keladry agreed. She left the table.

"I can't believe this," Egavar shook his head. "She's so…"

Joren nodded. The older man didn't need to finish his sentence. Keladry of Mindelan was lost to them. And as much as he didn't want to admit it…

__

It hurt.

~~

Chaos.

It was the destruction of Owen's city all over again. This time, there were more soldiers on each side. This time, more souls were sent up to the Gods for their judgment. And this time, Joren kept an eye on Keladry. When they charged the enemy line at the break of dawn, he realized how skilled a fighter she had become. If she got home, maybe she could take the tests for knighthood and fulfill her dream anyhow. He certainly didn't want to. Being a mercenary for the last few years convinced him that once he got home, it was the peaceful life for him. 

Blood splattered across his face. He jerked his head away, blinking. The corners of his vision became red. He moved off to the side, constantly moving so he would be a hard target. There he wiped the blood from his eyes. He realized he had fallen behind from the charging men. He couldn't see Keladry. "Damn! Where is she?"

He fought his way past several fighting lines of friend and enemy. He called out to his partner, hoping she would answer. Joren was forced to fight soldiers until he couldn't take any more physical onslaught. Just as he was about to collapse, the Mirans withdrew. He gasped for air and steadied his beating heart. 

Men and women and children were dead.

The city was already destroyed. It all mattered now on who lived and who died, not the condition of the city. 

"Regroup, men!" a captain called to his regiment. Joren ignored him and ran through the lines, searching for Keladry. He couldn't find her. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

~~

He didn't see her until days later. Egavar joined the city's resident Kodestrums to battle enemy magi. He didn't see his friend much, but was ensured his well being. The battle of the capital was still on. He couldn't believe there was anyone left to continue the brutal fight. Joren himself was weary of it all.

He wandered around, the battle having paused itself for men to feed and sleep. The area he was in was littered with corpses. No one fought there anymore because of the difficult footing. Joren could slip in the blood that seeped in the ground. It was that terrible. 

Joren was also exhausted. He wanted to lie down and slip into the eternal sleep promised to him.

"Mithros, not yet. Please," he begged his native god. He wanted to search for his partner and find her alive. He wanted to go home. He wanted to lay in his family's fields and dream about his future. It was supposed to be a bright and glorious future. Not filled with war. He _could_ still have that future. He still had the chance to find the Truth Stone, find a labafret, and force it to take him home. 

The only problem was that Joren was dying.

There was a wound over his heart. Yes, he was quite literally heartbroken. The wound was not deep enough to cause immediate death. But that, and other wounds all over puncturing vital organs ensured that he would suffer a long and agonizing death. After realizing this, he found he could suppress his pain so it did not bother him. Besides, he had other things on his mind-- like his family. 

The Tortallian realized he was never nice to his own family. The thought made him feel shame and guilt. He had stopped kissing his mother on the cheek after he turned eight years old. What a bully he had been back then. His life was wasted. And yet, he was grateful for every good thing to ever happen to him. He had no problem with dying. Everyone died eventually.

Yes, eventually. Kelady and Egavar would die eventually. The only two people he had ever called friends. 

A few minutes after the last thought, he saw her. Well, he saw her sword first, but he recognized the hilt. There was a yellow dye stain on the leather of the hilt that came from the women living next door to them at the inn. She had been dying Keladry a dress although she knew the young lady didn't wear dresses. 

"Keladry?" he croaked. There was no movement. He dropped to his knees beside her prone form. Her body was warm, but he was too scared to check for a pulse. Blood coagulated in her hair, her clothing, and on her wounds. There was a gash across her belly. The armor was absent. The chain mail's metal links were broken. 

But her face was peaceful. With a shaky hand, he reached forward and wiped her face with his sleeve. 

"It's almost like she's sleeping," he whispered and moved to lie down beside her. Something squeezed his heart, but he refused to cry. He could be strong, like her, and keep his tears at bay. She never cried. She'd die first. Well, she did. Keladry hadn't even cried for Owen. "I can be strong like that-- like you," he said to her, as if she was awake and listening. He leaned forward, breathing in her scent, taking a long look at her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. 

He kissed her, a light brush of the lips. It was the last thing he would ever do, because he laid down his head and closed his eyes.

And sensed the moment when his heart stopped.

~~

No. It wasn't the end. It was far from over. And the gods were not yet willing to receive the two kindred souls. So, they set the labafrets down, to right their selfish mistakes.

Two labafrets walked across the battlefield on their hind legs. They didn't know why they were there. It was smelly and dirty, and there was definitely no food to be had.

"George," the labafret walking on the right said. "What's wrong with _you_?"

"I don't know, Jonathan. Something feels different. I don't know what."

"Well, I'm starving. Can we go now?"

The purple labafret stopped in his tracks and peered at a young man and woman, lying beside each other. "Now, they look familiar."

"They're dead," the labafret named Jonathan remarked. "Come on! Let's go, I'm hungry!"

"Make yourself some food with your magic," George barked. 

"But it tastes better when it's not magic made!" Jonathan whined.

"Fine, fine! We'll go to that plane that you like. The one with all those pestering immortals running wild from some stupid war," his friend said and dropped onto all fours. They began singing together, a terrible song that went unnoticed in the battlefield. The ground shook, and parted slowly. The bodies of the young man and woman slid down the crack in the earth. The labafrets didn't notice, and proceeded to climb down into the ground.

~~

"Esmond!" Merric called. "Did you feel the ground shake?"

Esmond ran up to his panicked friend and shook his head. "No. Why, did you?"

"Yes! I can't believe you didn't feel it. What happened?"

The two knights were left in confusion. They decided to go further into the royal forest and ignore the natural phenomenon Merric experienced. Before long, they were greeted with a shocking site.

"Uh… Esmond…"

"Merric…"

"What are two people doing lying in the forest?"

Esmond leapt down from his saddle and knelt down by them. "Gods, they're practically dead. Go! Bring help! Quickly!"

Merric nodded and galloped away on his black steed. Esmond checked their pulses again and wondered what he should do first to help them. "How did they get here? Who are they?" He squinted down at their faces. Something seemed familiar about them. He had seen them before. He was sure of it. So, why couldn't he think of it?

"Hmm…" he scrunched up his face as he thought. And then, it came to him.

"Mithros! It's… it's Joren and Keladry!"

~~

Author: Did you actually think I would let them die? I would receive so many flames… No, they're alive. Well, as of the moment. We'll see what happens. Happy Holidays.


	18. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 17

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 17

By Sulia Serafine

[12-20-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

P.S. What do you know? I got out another chapter before Christmas. Seems that I have no life… Well, actually, this is what I do to pass the time while avoiding cheek-pinching relatives. (I'm sure you've suffered that, too.)]

Numair Salmalin and Duke Baird of Queenscove were the nearest men around that Merric could find. They were on trotting horses along the edge of the road when the knight rode up out of breath. He gripped his reins a little tighter to keep from falling off. The horse balked, and he loosened his grip. "You must come quickly! Sir Esmond and I have found two badly wounded individuals in the royal forest! They may die very soon!"

"By the Gods then, we must hurry!" the duke exclaimed. Numair nodded. Merric turned his horse around and called for them to follow him. As fast as the wind, he led them into the forest where Esmond waited. The knight stood up when they neared and waved his arms.

"You won't believe who it is! Hurry!"

"What? What do you mean?" Numair frowned, slowing his pace. Merric and Duke Baird continued racing to Esmond. The two got down from their horses. The duke knelt by Keladry and Joren, taking into account their wounds. Then, without needing to tell anyone just what was wrong and what he had to do, he called upon his healing magic. The bright threads of his healing power wound themselves around their bodies. Almost instantly, the two injured travelers started to breathe easier in their unconsciousness. 

Numair got down from his horse. He walked forward, almost in disbelief. He knew those faces. He had seen them before. "Sir Esmond, who did you say they were?"

"I didn't say."

"Well, then, say it!" Numair ordered. He was so tense that he had yelled at one of the few knights he could stand to be around.

Esmond nodded. "It's… well, it's Joren of Stone Mountain and Keladry of Mindelan."

Merric's eyes were as wide as saucers. He looked like a child. "No! That can't be! The two of them have been missing for _years_! Four years! After that long search, we thought they were dead!"

"Well, they've barely escaped death," Duke Baird confirmed as he sat back on his heels and panted from the exhausting use of his magic. He cleared his throat. "Merric, ride to the palace and find more help. We can't carry them back alone. I don't want to risk it."

"I thought you healed them," Esmond frowned. 

Numair answered for the duke. "Yes, their more fatal wounds are now not life-threatening, but they are still injured."

"I don't want to overstep my place," the young knight said, "But couldn't you heal them, too?"

The magus nodded. "I'd like too, but healing them to full health may be pushing it for their bodies' systems. It is used to managing these sorts of things. The sudden absence of the problem it's setting to correct may pose shock upon the body and cause a heart attack."

The two younger knights blinked.

"Obviously you don't understand. Don't worry about it and just go get more help to bring them to the palace."

~~

My name is Joren of Stone Mountain. I am 21 years old; I'll be 22 soon. I am born with two siblings-- my older brother and my younger sister. Yes, I'm the middle child. Yes, all the stereotypes of being a middle child are true for me. Except I finally resorted to being a jackass to get noticed. And this started at an early age, too. As I lay here at the edge of oblivion, I'm sorry that it was like that. Yes, I was born at Stone Mountain, in Tortall during the reign of King Jonathan III and Queen Thayet. I lived in Tortall for a good deal of my life, then I lived in the world beyond our physical plane. I have been a bully, a page, a squire, a mercenary, and reluctantly, a friend. And then I died. 

But not for long. I can sense everything going on around me as if I am conscious. Or rather, as if my mind is lifted out of my dead body to watch over the shoulders of those who recovered me.

I'm sure you already know my story. I go to the Royal Palace of Tortall. I train to become a knight. I have my cronies, not friends. We all have a common interest in being cruel. We think ourselves superior to others. I meet Keladry.

I can't really say I hated her at first site. No, that came later. The first moment I hear about her, I dislike her. When I first see her, I am in shock and denial that there is actually going to be a girl page. And then seconds after that initial response, I hate and cover up the trails of disbelief with smooth lies. Fortunately for Kel, Neal intercepts and becomes her sponsor. It is true what they say. I really would have driven her off within a week.

But the fact is, I don't. She stays. She gains friends, much to my surprise. The odds are against my lackeys and me. So, we back off most of the time. But the hate is still there. No, I don't mind if you call me a pig-headed fool. I deserve it. Just don't go overboard. I'm likely to retaliate.

Anyway, the years pass. I am a squire, but still stuck around the palace. Still stuck around her. I am going to be a knight very, very soon. I'm a little mad _now_ when I think back on it. After all those years of enduring Lord Wyldon, the Stump, and all that hard work, I don't even get to become a knight! I would have been a less than decent knight-- having all the skills, but not the whole chivalry concept… but still-- I could have gotten better in that department. Nothing's impossible.

And so, Keladry and I are thrown into a different plane of existence thanks to my least favorite purple furball. All we ever do is fight. Yes, fight, fight, and fight. We never learn to do anything else. Don't tell anyone, but some days I tried _so hard_ not to fight her, like I know she tried to not fight me. And yet, we still managed to argue. And yell. And scream. 

After a time, I found I didn't want to fight her, even when she made me angry. But, it just came-- like everything else.

The only person who was ever close to figuring this out was Egavar, Dark Forest, of Lon Falas. Truly, our first ally. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he has already figured it out. I'm not sure if _I've_ even figured it out. If I did, I wouldn't be rambling on right now like an idiot. I wonder if Egavar is still living back there…

I'm going to live, I hear Duke Baird say. I don't remember much about him. He healed a sprained ankle for me once, when I was in my first year as a page. Don't ask what happened to sprain my ankle. It's one of my more embarrassing moments. Back to the present, we are at the healers-- Keladry and I. A bed that I lay on is unexpectedly soft. I can smell herbs. I try to hear more of the duke's conversation. 

In fact, he's talking with Sir Miles. I remember him, too. I suppose he was one of my more favored teachers. It was never boring. It was hard not to take kindly to him, although my cronies and I refused to show our appreciation. We never even talked about things we liked among ourselves. None of us liked each other. We could only hang around together on the basis of the cruelty we had in common. Sir Miles saw it coming in my first year. He took me aside and talked to me about it. I only shrugged and walked away.

I wonder what Sir Miles is doing here. Next thing I'll hear, is the King's voice. Yes, I am sarcastic now, even as I lay half out of unconsciousness. If I could roll my eyes, I would, but I have no strength at all right now. I can't do anything but breathe. For Gods' sake, who else could visit? 

"It's a little odd, Your Majesty," Duke Baird began.

Oh, what do you know…? The king _is_ here. Whoop-dee-doo. I _mentally_ roll my eyes.

"What's odd?" King Jonathan asked.

"The wound on… Keladry's… belly is over another previous wound. The scars tell me it was nearly as fatal as the one that we found her with. Both probably would have killed her if the necessary help hadn't been found."

They're absolutely right about that. At Arthados, where Keladry got sliced two years back, I had went all over town until a Kodestrum came and told me he would help on the condition that I would stop bothering the townspeople. I kept up the end of my bargain. And so the magus healed Keladry. Yes, I know what you're thinking. "Aww… Joren has a heart after all." Yes, I do have a heart. Who said I didn't? I just usually ignore it at times. And besides, the main thought running through my head when Keladry lay on the Kodestrum's healing mat was that Neal, her parents, and everyone else would murder me if I came back without her. They'd probably think _I_ killed her.

Would I ever harm Keladry like that? Try to kill her? I don't know. I certainly wound her with words. That's a piece of cake. But to physically drive a dagger through her heart? Slit her throat? Strangle her? I don't know.

I'm ignoring one important fact here.

I'm home.

After all this time, after all my ranting, after all my begging… I am home. Yet, I don't feel any different. I don't feel any happier. I can hear everyone's voices. I am assured it's them. I can smell the Tortallian air. I can breathe it in deeply and praise Mithros and the Goddess. 

But I don't.

Because I realize something. Keladry is right. We aren't Tortallians anymore. I feel like a foreigner, lying here in this bed, no longer reveling in its comfortable qualities. I am drawn back to reality. Here, I worry about what to tell the curious men when I fully wake up. I worry what everyone will think of us… of _me_. Who would've guessed I was insecure like that? I guess I don't even know myself. A long time ago, I was able to do whatever I wanted without worrying about other people. Of course, I was a jerk. And now, I do worry. So, am I still a jerk? If Keladry were awake, she would say yes. She still hasn't forgiven me.

"Ugh…" I groan. Someone is at my side, but I know it isn't the duke or any healer. This person I know, but not very well.

"Someone! He's waking up!" The voice has confirmed my suspicion. I recognize it immediately, albeit his voice has matured a little.

I open my eyes and smirk. He's always taken my smirk the wrong way, thinking that I was about to do something horrible. Now is no exception. He pulls back a little and peers at me with large eyes. He looks more a child right now than Merric does. And with my scratchy, parched throat, I say, "Hello, Queenscove."

Neal gasps. Why the surprise? It's not like I ever call him Neal to his face or anything. "It is you! Joren!"

The tone he is using is the one he uses for friends. Why is he using it for me? It annoys me. "Don't get all mushy, Queenscove, or I'll think of something evil to do to you." I move to sit up, but I can't. Neal helps me by piling a few cushions behind my back. I sneer at him. It's my default reaction for anything he's ever done for me.

He obviously doesn't notice my hostility. "What happened to you and Kel?"

"Long story. I'll explain later. How is she?"

Neal grinned over at Keladry although she was still out cold. "My father said she would be fine. And if you're awake, then she will be too!"

Gods, his enthusiasm makes my ears ring. I am reminded of why I dislike him.

"Keep it down, would you?" I scold him, and grimace. There are heavy bandages around my chest. My heart will be fine though. I have a feeling I could be out fighting around the countryside in no time. I take a few deep breaths and face Neal again. "What major things have happened?"

Neal seemed surprised that I would ask him of all people. He should be. "Uh, well, um…" he stuttered for a bit, then thought of things to say. "Prince Roald got married. The Yaman Islands are our best allies. Hmm… There have been two new girl pages." He paused to examine my reaction. I give him none. He frowns. "Most of the guys around when you were last here are now new knights."

"Like Merric and Esmond," I nodded.

"How did you know that? You were out cold."

I shrug. "What else?"

"The Scanrans have decreased their amounts of raids and attacks. The more harmful immortals are slowly decreasing in number."

I hold up my hand, signaling to him that the information was sufficient. I turn to Keladry and call. "Hey, wake up. Neal's here."

Neal stares at me as if I have two heads. Oh, that's right. I forgot. Keladry never told him how she felt. I wonder if Neal feels that way. It wouldn't surprise me if he did. He is Neal, after all. Having crushes over a billion girls. Now that he sees how mature Keladry has become, he'll probably propose to her when he learns of her feelings. 

Keladry groaned a bit as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, then turned her gaze to me, then Neal. She gasped. "We're home?"

"Yes, we're home. Which means I've won the bet," I say to her. She glares at me.

"Kel! Gods, look at you! You're grown up!"

"Of course I am. It's been years," she replied. Without her knowing, her mask was on. I hope Neal doesn't get offended. She does it automatically now. 

Wait. I notice something. Before we died and wound back at Tortall, Keladry was in a deep depression. Now that we're home, she's better again? And then I mentally kick myself. Of course she's better again. She's with her precious Neal. But… is she still mad at me? About Owen? About being a jackass in the last few days before our deaths?

"Before our deaths." I almost laugh aloud. There's a phrase you don't hear every day, yet I'd use it often.

~~

Keladry and Joren were reintroduced to the Court a night after their homecoming. By then, they were healthy again. All their classmates who were now either knights or squires on the verge of knighthood greeted them. Everyone was in awe of their fantastic story. Messages were sent to Keladry's and Joren's parents that their children were found. As Joren looked around, he realized he didn't see Vinson, or any of his fellow bullies. He asked Seth, who replied that they did not pass the final test and left. 

"Well, are you two looking to become knights now?" Lord Wyldon asks. Joren groaned. The Stump was still there.

"No, not me. I'm happy the way things are now," Joren said in a heartbeat. He glanced at Keladry.

"I don't know. Probably not. I've already become a warrior capable of helping people, which is one of the main reasons I started as a page anyhow." Joren smirked. She was still in her depression if she actually turned knighthood down. The people of the court were actually surprised. Joren wondered how the King's Champion would have reacted if she was here. But no, Alanna was in her home with her family for the season.

"Besides," Keladry continued. "I've just met the two girl pages. They are about to become squires, no? They will please this court and become knights worthy of Tortall." Her mask was still on, Joren saw. What was she really thinking?

A few days passed. Keladry's and Joren's bonds were severed. Everyone expected them to talk together since they were stuck in the other world with each other for so long. But they didn't. They went they separate ways around the palace, but kept the same group of friends. Keladry's family came-- every single one of them. Her sister-in-laws cried and hugged her. Her brothers hugged her as well, without the tears. And she got reacquainted with her younger siblings all over again. Her parents were beside themselves with relief. They had their daughter back.

As for Joren's family-- well, Joren advised them not to come in his message. He would rather go home to Stone Mountain and see his family there. Despite how badly his family was connected to him, they sent back a message with warm words of love. 

There was a royal ball. Keladry was not in a dress, but the uniform that most knights wore at balls. The tunic was bright blue and yellow, with the crest of Tortall across the chest. She didn't know what to do with her hair. It was still cropped short to her chin. She didn't feel right wearing the uniform, but after hearing the latter of her story, the King and Queen insisted that she would be counted as great as a knight would. She had not told them about Owen though. That would bring too many questions and reveal too many of her personal thoughts.

Neal, Esmond, Merric, and Seth all talked with her. They stood in one corner with wineglasses talking about the last four years. Keladry could not get over it. She was home. After she had given up hope, they were home. But something felt wrong. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Joren. He was standing across the ballroom, looking rather bored.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," she told her friends and crossed the large ballroom to meet him. He was dressed in his normal clothes. She noticed it was mended so he wouldn't look too shabby at the royal ball. This time, he wore a crisp white shirt under his gray vest with the golden lining. And his pants, she realized, weren't his normal ones after all. They looked new, unlike his weathered pants. 

"Hey," she said, standing before him.

"Hey."

There was a long awkward silence between them. Keladry cleared her throat. "I, um, heard you're going back home."

"Yeah," Joren nodded. She was talking to him? He thought she hated him. Well, she probably did still, but trying to be civil before he left. "I'm going home to see my family for a few months, than I've decided to be a mercenary again."

"I thought you had enough of the warrior's life." She looked at him accusingly.

"Well, I don't know how to do anything else. There's nothing else I'm good at, or patient enough to learn."

"Oh," she said quietly. Joren ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"So, what's new with you?"

She gulped. "Uh, Neal asked me to marry him. And I said yes."

"Congratulations," Joren smiled. It was a fake as far as she could tell.

"You aren't objecting?"

"Why would I object? I'm the one who told you that you were in love him in the first place, remember?"

She looked disappointed at his reaction. "Right. Sorry. So, I guess I'll see you around."

"Not likely," he said and walked away.

~~

Author: Again, no flames please! This isn't the end! Although our two characters have now come home, there still is a story left. Thanks for reading.


	19. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 18

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 18

By Sulia Serafine

[12-22-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

P.S. What do you know? I got out _another_ chapter before Christmas. Seems that I have no life… Well, actually, this is what I do to pass the time while avoiding cheek-pinching relatives. (I'm sure you've suffered that, too.)]

I am Keladry of Mindelan. I am 18 years old. Around this age, I would have taken the test for knighthood, but as you already know-- I got "sidetracked". The King still offers me the chance to go ahead and take the test. He says I can come back at any time and take it. I'd rather not. I'm content with life right now.

Yes, my life… There's not much to my life, if you count out the four to five years I was stuck wandering around with my former partner, Joren of Stone Mountain. I was born in Tortall, but I spent the latter of my childhood in the Yaman Islands. For a long time, I tried to prove myself to the people there. When I finally did and kept their approval, we had to move back. 

By that time in my life, I already had my cold stone mask. You know-- how I always say, "Be as stone" or "Calm as a peaceful lake"? All that comes from my training. Learning it so early on in life cursed me forever. I could look indifferent to the world but inside I was really angry or sad… or maybe even happy. There are only three people that can tell my emotions past my mask.

  1. My father.
  2. My mother.
  3. Joren.

I don't mind it at all. My parents are my parents. They should know how I feel. And as for Joren… he isn't around so I don't worry about him-- it's not that I don't worry. He knows all my weaknesses and has attacked them often. I have attacked his. All we ever do is hurt each other. It's sick and twisted, yet it defines our friendship.

If you can really call such a damned thing a friendship…

I don't usually curse. But he brings out the worst in me. You know-- I don't even want to talk about it. Let's get back to the events of my life. I was a page for a few years. You know the story. Everyone knows the story about that. I was all the news for the first two weeks to the whole entire palace. (It's unnerving to see people whisper about you constantly. "Oh! There goes that girl page. What a tomboy!")

I really liked my glaive. I preferred it to my sword from the beginning. Yet, it was a sword that I ended up using most often in the other world. Glaives and pole arms like that didn't exist over there. Or if they did, I didn't see them. I also practiced the fighting arts in my spare time. All the court ladies were taught some degree of fighting arts to defend themselves in the Yaman Islands. 

So I fought in the Miran war. I don't like war, yet I knew it was inevitable that I fight in one. When you're a knight, or any highly honored warrior for that matter, you're expected to participate. And who am I to disappoint?

Let's get back on track. I am Keladry of Mindelan, soon to be of Queenscove. The wedding of Nealan (he still hates to be called that, but it seems proper for me to call him that in rite of marriage) and I will be held in the temple district of Corus two months hence. I will be wearing a wedding gown. Yes, that's me in a dress. I wore dresses while I was a page to remind everyone who I was. But in the other world, it was an inconvenience, therefore banished from my wardrobe.

I suppose I can stomach it for one day. I just hope Neal doesn't mind that he'll never see me in another dress there after. Imagine a wife who never wore dresses. If I had children, who I do dread having for some reason, they would hear everyone call their mother a tomboy. Maybe Neal would become embarrassed. 

And another thing: I would be waiting at home, tending to the manor or fief or wherever we ended up while Neal slew evil monsters and bad men all the time. I'd be stuck with female servants who sat in my solar sewing. I'd probably be put in charge of the linen or arranging things for my children. What are the chances that I'll go back to the Yaman Islands? At least there, _my_ mother had a place at the court and had fun training with glaives. 

I should stop thinking like that. If I keep on with it, I'll jilt Neal at the altar. I wouldn't want that. He's a good friend--

__

No… He's a good future-husband. I have loved him since we were both pages. Well, it was a crush, but something happened along the way. And there's nothing wrong with that. I love Neal. Even Joren said I do. I admit it now. I didn't love Owen. I'm sorry he died because he loved me so much to follow me into battle. I have many regrets.

Goddess, help me. I don't want to be mushy. It's me for goodness' sake! All this talk of love is making my guts grumble. Yet, love is a big part of my life. Just as much as the fight is.

The fight will always have its place in my mind. Before I knew friendship, I knew the fights and black eyes of those I had to defend myself against. Before I realized I had love, I fought. I still fight. I did most of my fighting with Joren--

What's wrong with me today?

I walk around the stables to watch the two girl pages. They look to each other for friendship and support, but they don't alienate themselves against the boys. They're all a nice group of children and will make great knights. At least Lord Wyldon allows me to be here and watch them. Before I asked him, I was afraid he'd want me away, just like Alanna was kept away from me.

By the way, I did meet the King's Champion three days ago. She heard I was found again and rushed on over from Pirate's Swoop with her son as her only company. Thom is a nice guy, but he's distant. I think it's because he's never been around his mother as much as he wants to. His mother is the Lioness. Her smiles are shared with everyone. Her time is shared with the whole country. Her husband knew this when he married her, but Thom was born into it, as well as his other siblings. I haven't met them, but he told me about them. They have accepted it better than Thom has.

I prefer his company to my former fellow pages, not including Neal. He's stoic, yes, but thoughtful at least. He's not as talkative as neither Neal nor Owen, but insightful and candid. I wish I could think as clearly as he does. It would help me sort out my mind so much easier.

Daine told me that Peachblossom passed away while I was gone. I was sad at first, but the wildmage told me that she took care of him. I almost expect to see my bay gelding in his stall. Stefan waves to me from where he is pitching hay. I wave back and walk out. 

~~

A few weeks later.

Joren had to speak with Faleron because he was staying at his family's home until he was able to drive some spidrens out of the area. Faleron's mother had a message for him and had asked Joren to deliver it. The young mercenary was none too happy to go back to the palace. He knew that was where all his troubles stayed.

The palace was just as he had left it: filled with people he held no hatred for, a reminder of his days as a youth in knights' training, and the start of all his troubles. He avoided most of his former classmates. They didn't even know he was there. And it was going to stay like that. He sneaked around the palace constantly. Even Sir Miles didn't make himself aware of the blonde's presence (and if he did, he did not bother to investigate his peculiar behavior).

The second day he was there, he found the young knight talking to Sir Raoul of the King's Own. The burly man greeted Joren and even shook his hand. "I heard about you from his majesty. That must be nearly the strangest thing I've ever heard."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Joren thought. Aloud, he said, "It's an honor meeting you sir."

"Just call me Raoul. You must talk with Faleron, right? I will see the two of you later." With that, he strode off. There was an aura of strength around that man. Joren admired and respected it. He turned to the younger man.

"Your mother wants you to come home with me to help with the spidrens. And also to introduce you to a potential bride."

Faleron frowned. He didn't mind the spidrens, but-- "Bride? Did she say bride? The last three women she's introduced me to were terrible! She's still at it?"

"She's your mother," Joren shrugged, as if it explained everything. 

"I suppose you're right. Well, I'll go report to Sir Gareth that I'm leaving. I'll meet you at my room."

Everything was set. On the third morning, Joren and Faleron would leave. And hopefully he would never return. It was the road for him, now and forever. Joren woke up extra early. While Faleron was just getting up to eat breakfast, Joren was out at the stables. He took care of his horse and checked his saddlebags. Being a little extra paranoid of his former fellow classmates, Joren left a note for Faleron to meet him at the front gate of the Palace. 

But despite his efforts, one person did know he was there. She crept up behind him and leaned on a wooden post, waiting for him to turn around. He did.

"Ah!" he nearly jumped. "Keladry? What are you doing here?"

"Talking to you. What does it look like?" she answered in a monotone voice.

He shivered. "As cold as ever," he thought, and went back to checking the straps on his horse. "Do you mind? I'm leaving soon."

"Oh, that's right. You're a lone mercenary," she drawled over the words as if they bored her. He glared at her.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." She continued to stare at him with her penetrating brown eyes. He frowned.

"Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't you be at Queenscove with your husband?"

Keladry darkened. "No."

"Well, why not?"

"Because he's not my husband."

This left him speechless. He turned around and examined her face. She wasn't lying. "Why? I thought you both had that mutual love thing going on. "

"Why do you care?" she asked in a quiet voice. The ice was melting a little, but not enough to count for emotion.

He stiffened. "Just answer the question."

"Because you love me."

Damn. His heart was starting to hurt again. Why did he have to go and get wounded there anyway? Joren fought to breathe, but he found it difficult. The words just hit him like a hammer to his head. Was he actually getting dizzy? He shook his head clear and backed away from his horse. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're crazy."

"We established that fact about the two of us a long time ago," Keladry retorted. She took a few steps closer to him so they were at arms' length of each other. 

"Don't you love Neal?"

She sighed. "I did. A few days before the wedding, I realized I fell out of love with him when I tried to see him in Owen's eyes. I had let love run its course. There's no shame in that. So, I told Neal. We ended the wedding plans calmly in private. He was very nice about it." She paused and allowed the edge of her lip to curl up into a smirk. "But he won't talk to me for a few months."

"Oh," Joren said. He blinked. "That's good for you, I guess. But I really have to go."

"Joren." 

He stopped before he put his foot in the stirrup. He didn't turn to look at her though. "What?"

"For how long?"

He coughed. "I, uh, don't understand."

She glared at him accusingly. "How long have you loved me?"

Joren really had to get a healer look at his heart. It might be a hindrance to his job. He mounted up and ran his hand through his hair. He chuckled sadly. "Years."

Keladry folded her arms and nodded, as if telling herself that she was right all along. "Why then didn't you ever tell me?"

He gazed at her. After a few seconds, he said in a very sober voice, "Because I've been spending every waking second of those years trying to fall out of love with you."

"I thought," she started, "…I thought that you were supposed to try and win the heart of the person you loved, not try to drive them away."

His hands tightened on the reins, but he didn't tug on them to discomfort the horse. He let his emotions surface. "Just go away Keladry."

"No! Not until you tell me why," she said through clenched teeth.

He leaned down towards her. "We don't belong together! Don't you see? All we ever do is fight. Even on our good days, we argue endlessly. And I always end up hurting you, and you do the same to me. I don't want my life to be like that!" He put his hand to his forehead. "We're not good for each other. No doubt, we'd end up murdering each other by the first year."

"We should at least try!" she cried, a sob buried in her throat. Tears did not spill from her eyes, but Joren knew that was the most that anyone's ever gotten out of her. He shook his head and put the anger out of his voice.

"Look, Kel," he said softly. "I don't want to fight you anymore."

"Then don't! It's not so hard," she argued.

"Yes it is! We're doing it right now!"

"That's because you're not admitting how you truly feel."

"I _am_ admitting my feelings! Kel, _this is how I feel_! I don't want to be around you anymore. It's better that way," he said. Kel didn't respond that time. Instead, she stood with her fists balled up at her sides. Joren cursed under his breath. "Kel, please. Don't make this any harder. You know it," he paused. His throat was closing up because he was working hard not to cry. "You know it and I know it. This is the end."

"Don't cry, Joren," he told himself. "She doesn't cry. Look at her! Her eyes aren't even watery. Don't cry. Just leave now, before it's too late."

He moved his horse forward. "Do you agree with me now Kel?"

She looked up with him. "No. But if you want to leave, I can't stop you."

"It's the end. You can't stop me," he reconfirmed her statement.

"Then take this back. I don't want it." She reached into a pouch hanging from her belt and drew out the tiny ivory cat he had given to her for the winter holidays. She handed it to him. He held it in his shaking palm. 

"You still have this?" he asked quietly.

"I carried it with me everywhere," she confessed. "Even into battle." She turned her back on him. "Go then. If you're too much a coward to try with me, then leave. I don't care."

He put the cat inside his jacket and goaded his horse to move forward. "Goodbye, Lump. Have a… have a nice life."

He flicked the reins. The horse sprung into a gallop, leaving behind the stables where Keladry stood crying.

~~

Author: *reads the last few sentences* Man, that was sad. What am I thinking?! Don't be too mad at me for letting the chapter end like this. Just be sure to check back regularly for chapter 19. Happy Holidays.


	20. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 19

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 19

By Sulia Serafine

[12-23-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

P.S. And now, Happy New Year!]

Joren sat in the tree, watching Faleron light the campfire below. 

"Are you sure you want to stay up there? The spidrens--"

"I'm fine, Faleron. Besides, I've already located the spidren nest. They won't cross the river to get here. Well, usually, they don't… not unless we draw a lot of attention to our campfire, if memory serves me right. So what if they come? We can handle a brood of them." He shrugged and yawned. "Hand me something to eat, would you?"

"Well, Mithros! I didn't think you'd gone all professional like that," Faleron said as he reached up to hand Joren a piece of venison and a bread roll. He did a mock bow. "Great Wise Joren, what else can you tell me about these evil creatures that I don't know? I am an ignorant man for a knight of Tortall."

Joren smiled. "Oh, shut it."

Faleron sat down cross-legged and started drinking some water from his canteen. "Seriously, Joren. What did you do all the time in that other world?" He held up his hand before Joren could respond. "I know-- I heard the story. But what could you possibly have done as a mercenary?"

"You did remember the part about the Mirans, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, at first, we started to help people against their Miran troubles. But we found we were just two people compared to an entire army and concentrated on finding a way home. Keladry," he paused when he said her name. "Anyway, Keladry was mad at that notion first, but she became more attached to the concept when she nearly died at Arthados. Death is a very sobering thing."

"Did you hang around knights?" Faleron asked with a smile. "Were they as good as us?"

He laughed. "No, no knights. But I bet they weren't as half as good as us." Joren's mood darkened. He was talking about the other world in past tense. Did that world still exist? Maybe it was destroyed. Maybe it still existed, but time went by faster, or maybe slower. 

__

"Good questions, boy. I'm sorry, but I'm not giving you answers."

Joren's head snapped up. "Did you hear that?"

Faleron looked at him skeptically. "Oh, is it the spidrens that you said wouldn't attack?"

"I'm serious!"

The knight got on his feet and drew his sword. "Right." He reached down and grabbed a spear. "Catch!" he tossed the spear up. Joren caught it with his outstretched hand, but frowned.

"It wasn't like that, I don't think-- more like a voice. Are you sure you didn't hear it?" 

"No! Why would I hear voices?" he whispered fiercely. "Now, honestly, did you hear spidrens or not?"

Joren sighed. "No--"

"Behind you!" Faleron shouted. 

Joren's eyes widened. He turned around just in time to see the head of a spidren, it's silvery sharp teeth slick with saliva in the moonlight. It threw a rope of its glowing web at him. He moved to dodge it. The branch snapped under his weight. He crashed down to the ground. 

"Gods! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Joren cried. "Watch out! There are more!" He ran to the campfire and lit a torch. "Damn it! I can't believe we were so careless!"

"Watch my back!" Faleron yelled as he dodged another stream of spidren web. Then he gasped. "They have weapons! Axes, for crying out loud! And look! They've killed our horses!"

Joren eyed approaching spidrens, sneaking their way through the bushes. He also spotted the poor horses. They were being torn apart by two gluttonous spidrens. He grabbed a lamp from Faleron's bedroll and flung it out into the darkness.

"What did you do that for? Are you crazy?" Faleron threw a spear at another spidren. He was good on his mark, and the spidren fell from the trees. He held up his sword again, waiting for the closer spidrens to make their attacks.

Joren drew his sword, but raised the torch high. He looked to see where the lamp oil had spread, then threw the torch. The spidrens did not retreat in time. The torch lit the lamp oil. All the dry bushes were ablaze. A dying spidren threw an ax straight at his head. Joren ducked, but it grazed Faleron's shoulder, whose back was turned.

"Agh! We're outnumbered!"

"Don't think that! We'll be fine. Move toward the fire with me! They won't risk going near it."

"But they can still throw bloody axes," Faleron shouted angrily. "Watch out! Here they come!"

A dozen spidrens descended upon them from the trees. The image of their arrival would be burned into the back of Joren's mind whenever he had nightmares. He swung his sword, upward, over his head. They moved off to the side of camp to rush them with their human weapons. 

"Careful! They're putting webs all over the place!"

"Burn it all!" Joren screamed and grabbed a dry piece of wood from the campfire. He lit it and threw it at their bedrolls, which were under the spidrens. They shrieked loudly as their furry bodies were engulfed in flames. A few made it past the fire and charged them with an ax. Faleron raised his sword to deflect the blow and spun around, cutting the spidren across its abdomen. Blood splattered on him and the knight howled.

"Its blood! Argh! It hurts!"

Joren spied the black droplets burning through Faleron's clothing in the firelight. "Just like acid…" he murmured. "Bear it, man! They are more!"

He drew a knife from his belt and threw it at another approaching. The immortal caught it and grinned to show all its disgusting teeth. Joren cursed under his breath. "Don't we have anymore spears, damn it?!"

"Web! Watch out!"

He wasn't quick enough. The web caught his foot and stuck him to the ground. Joren viciously hacked at it with his sword, trying to get free. Faleron found another knife in his boot and tried to help Joren cut himself free. "Don't worry about me! Watch out!"

The closest spidren, having Joren's knife, threw it straight back at Joren's head. He jerked his head to the left to dodge, but he could feel the blade slice across his right cheek. He gritted his teeth and got up, now free. He charged at the spidren, brandishing his sword high. Faleron turned to face the immortals coming to them from behind. 

His thrust was knocked aside with one long furry leg. The head darted forward, eager to bite Joren and taste his delicious human blood. As it did this, Joren spun around again, almost too fast for it, and swung his sword as hard as he could. The monster's head came off, rolling to the ground a few feet away. Joren jumped back just when the blood flew threw the air. He jumped over the dead body. Then, he braced himself for one last creature.

It was holding up his lit bedroll, waving it around to burn him. Joren ducked down to the ground and reached for his crossbow. It hadn't been burned up in the fire he created. He closed one eye and took three seconds to aim at the fire-wielding spidren.

He squeezed the trigger, and the bolt lodged itself in spidren's eye. Joren rolled on the ground to avoid the falling body and the falling bedroll. "Faleron! Are you okay?"

Faleron screamed curses at the monsters. He faced off against one last, wielding two axes. He ducked and wove around the immortal's limbs. There was a bit of stick, glowing web stuck to his front. It was difficult for the knight to move. Joren's eyes widened.

"Careful! You're getting too close to the fire!"

Faleron caught a glimpse of him from the corner of his eyes. He panted in the effort of keeping away from the spidren, but also trying to strike it. Finally, the spidren lunged forward, waving its axes in every possible angle. Joren cried out to him. Faleron fell backwards to the ground. The spidren jumped on him, preparing to feast. 

"No! Gods, no!" Joren shouted hoarsely.

All of a sudden, the spidren stiffened. It made startled sounds, and then went limp. Faleron pushed it off with his legs, and coughed. He was holding his sword pointed straight up from where he had stabbed the spidren. The black blood dripped down from the sword and onto Faleron's hands. The young man threw his sword away from him with a yelp of pain and turned over so he was on his hands and knees. 

"Hey, Joren," Faleron called as his limbs tired and he collapsed stomach flat on the ground. "Are you alive?"

"Yeah, but in no better shape than you," he replied. The blonde cleaned off his sword on part of his bedroll that wasn't burnt and looked up at the towering trees. "I think that's all of them." He looked down at him. "Hey, at least you get to show off some new burn scars from the bloody acid."

"Bloody acid?" Faleron croaked.

"Sorry. No pun intended."

"It's okay. My shoulder stings a bit." He reluctantly forced himself up and ripped his sleeve into strips to tie it around his hands and another strip for his shoulder. "What about you?"

"I got singed by the fire a little. It's nothing big." He froze and felt his cheek. He winced. "Oh well. New scar to show off, eh?"

"Right," he agreed. "The fire is dying out by itself. But it would be better if there was some rain."

"Yeah, rain," Joren agreed.

"_That can be arranged._"

A sudden downpour fell upon the two hapless warriors. The fire scattered around them was immediately doused, and they had only the moon for light. The luminescent light reflected on the falling water, and on the clouds they saw through the opening of sky above them. For a moment, they both stood there. Faleron finally spoke up.

"We, um, don't have anything." 

"What?"

"Horses, fire, bedrolls, food. We used all our weapons until they were all broken-- excluding our swords."

There was a pause.

"Want to use the axes?"

Faleron stared at Joren past his sopping wet hair covering his eyes. He was still panting and wincing from the fight. In addition to that, he began to slightly shiver from the cold rain. His breath became visible as he huffed in the night air. His eyes were stern and reproachful. For a moment, Joren thought the knight's hands would close around his neck and strangle him. Instead, this happened:

"Okay. Axes, it is." He shrugged and walked past to lean down and obtain one.

"We can cut some branches and build a makeshift shelter for the night."

"What about food?"

"We already ate."

"What about tomorrow?"

"We _can_ return to King's Reach. Your family's the one who set us on this job, remember?"

"Oh yes. I wonder what my smug brother will think when he hears we took down the whole lot of monsters."

"Do you think there are more?"

"If there are, we can take them!" He gallantly posed.

Joren rolled his eyes. "Right…"

Near dawn, the rain had finally stopped. Last night after much effort of convincing, Joren got them to go up in the trees. When Faleron complained about bugs, Joren handed him a bottle of some sort of oil to rub over his skin. Back in Egavar's Dark Forest, the Nodestrum said it would keep bugs from bothering him. He called it bug repellent, whatever that was. So, Faleron slept peacefully in the sturdy branches of an old tree that was mostly dry. The branches above them were tied together to form sort of a cover from the rain. 

The mercenary rested his hands behind his head and watched the sky turn pink and orange. The sun would be up any moment now. He let out a deep sigh and wondered who the voice was. The one he always heard at the strangest times. 

"When I was drunk," he whispered, "on the winter holiday. Just now, with the rain…" He didn't understand. Was it some sort of god looking down on him and having fun manipulating his wretched life? If it was, it was probably one of the stranger gods that he didn't take well to. 

His wandering mind suddenly remembered something. He reached into his belt pouch and took out the ivory cat he bought for Keladry. He turned it over in his palm and studied it earnestly. "Was it a mistake buying this for her? It's not like it did me either of us any good."

"_I beg to differ_."

Joren growled. "Just _who_ are you? Get out of my head!"

"_You should be thankful I am here at all._"

"I'm as grateful to you as I am to those damn labafrets… whoever you are…"

"_The labafrets could do so much for you._"

He gripped the tiny ivory cat tightly in his hand. "Well then, I'd command the labafrets to bring Egavar to Tortall! Maybe _he'd_ know how to help me! And while they're at it, they can let the Mirans come in this land for our knights to fight and defeat!" He waved his arms about in mock melodrama. "Why, we could fix everyone's fucking problems, couldn't we?" 

"_Don't be so childish._"

He dropped down from the branch. He threw the cat to the ground and pointed out randomly at the sky. "Stay out of my head, damn it! I don't care if you _are_ some kind of god. Stay the fuck out!"

Faleron was awake and staring at him as if he was crazy. The blonde calmed down and ran a hand through his hair characteristically. "Joren, are you… okay?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing. A bad dream," he lied and picked up the cat. He glared at it with intense hatred and put it back in his pouch.

~~

Keladry was walking across the courtyard. Lords and ladies of the court lingered around the courtyard, deep in conversation. Some of them paused to look at her. Some gazes were filled with fascination for the girl who was missing for four years. Others looked at her with distaste for the girl who was training to be a knight and still had the option to be one. She ignored the looks and concentrated on her own brooding thoughts. She kicked the ground with the toe of her boot. 

"_Aaaahhhhhhh_!"

She blinked. What was that sound? And why did it sound so close? She looked around her. "Hey, did anyone-- OOF!"

Something big and heavy fell on top of her, flattening her to the ground on her stomach. All the air rushed out of her lungs. She groaned and squirmed to get out from under whatever was on top of her. It moved on top of her. "Goddess!" she thought. "It's a person!"

The person groaned in pain as he (she could tell by the groan) rolled off her back and sat woozy on the ground. A few lords and royal guards rushed up. Keladry also rolled over so she could take a look at him. Her heart nearly stopped. The man was tall with dark hair flipped over his face. His familiarly accented voice muttered curses as he clumsily stood.

She blinked. She blinked again.

"_Egavar?_"

He squinted at her with his dark eyes. "Keladry?"

"What are you doing here!" she screamed.

He looked up at the sky. "Uh… I was sure I was standing on the balcony of the mayor's home. We were discussing strategy with the other capital city officials."

A man pushed past the crowd gathered around them. "What's the meaning of this? What's going on?"

"My lord!" Keladry exclaimed. It was Gareth of Naxen, the Younger. "This is Egavar! He's from the other plane I told you about!"

"How?"

Egavar pointed up. "Don't ask anything more than that, 'cause I don't know."

Gareth's mouth was open in astonishment. "Well, then…" he paused. "Take him inside. We'll talk about this in private. Someone! Get his Majesty! Sir Miles is near, get him!"

A couple of royal guards ran as they were commanded. Gareth was about to say something else when a lady screamed. They all turned around and spotted what she was screaming at. 

There was a black hole in the sky. It spat out men-- more particularly, soldiers with familiar crests upon their clothing and armor. Keladry shook her head vigorously while Egavar became dizzy. The wind had a mind of its own and gently floated the men down. They didn't see past that because the high palace walls and trees prevented them.

"The Mirans… The Mirans are here…" Keladry whispered. "Gods help us…"

~~

Author: Ha! And you said there wasn't any plot left… Happy Holidays from your (hopefully) favorite K/J author 


	21. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 20

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 20

By Sulia Serafine

[12-26-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

P.S. IMPORTANT! The first week of January, I have my semester finals. That means I have to study. That also means that I won't be working on my story for that whole week. Yes, you can protest all you want. The only way you can help me is either by giving me all my test answers to memorize or burning my school down (I should be receiving a reply on _this_ umm…). I plan to compensate by making this chapter a bit longer than usual. So, I wish you a Happy New Year and good luck to anyone else stuck taking exams.]

"This _isn't_ happening. It can't be happening," Egavar said under his breath. He turned to Keladry. "I'm not seeing that! I refuse to believe I'm actually seeing that!"

Keladry nearly scowled. "They will not destroy Tortall the way they destroyed the other world. I won't let them." She bit her lip and thought. "As if they haven't already made my life a nightmare… I must avenge so many people. It's only right that I seek justice. I have to… I have to fight them. That's what I was destined for anyway-- not love."

"Can someone tell me what is going on?" Gareth shouted. He pointed at the Mirans gently falling from the sky. "Who are they? How did they get here?"

"I don't know," Egavar responded. "They probably got here the same way I did. Godforsaken Mirans…"

"Quick! We have to inform the King that we're going to be attacked!" Keladry exclaimed. She moved to exit the courtyard with Egavar trailing behind her. Gareth stood transfixed, staring at the black hole in the sky. He finally regained his senses and called the royal guards to announce there was to be a meeting held with the king's council. 

~~

"WHAT?"

"That didn't sound too good," Egavar thought as he and Keladry waited outside the council room. He glanced at his friend. She didn't show much emotion, but he could see she was depressed. "Hey," he whispered. "It's okay. We're going to get these Mirans good. They aren't going to destroy your world like they did mine."

Keladry feigned a smile for his benefit. "It's not that, but thanks anyway."

"Then what is it?" He seemed concerned about her, so she tried to put a happier expression on her face. Having very little practice at happy expressions in the last year, she failed miserably.

"Nothing you should worry about," she replied in an almost inaudible voice. She lowered her gaze to the floor. If her cheeks were red, or if her lip was trembling, she'd never forgive her self.

Egavar nodded. "Right." He looked around the room without moving his head. "Just wondering… where is Joren? When you both didn't come back from the battlefield at the capital, I thought you'd… well…be together wherever you ended up. So, where is Sir Snores-a-lot?"

She chuckled. "Nice name." Keladry cleared her throat. "He's on the road, being a mercenary."

"Why aren't you with him being a mercenary, too? I thought _he_ was the one always saying he'd give up the fighting life."

"I, uh, stayed here to marry, then changed my mind." Egavar was surprised at her tone. The casual expression on her face… It wasn't like her at all to say something so serious in such a jovial matter. She said it as simply as "Oh, I just decided on a different color." 

The Nodestrum nearly had a heart attack. "Marry? Someone else besides Joren?"

Keladry glared at him indignantly. She boldly took a step closer to him and said in a threatening voice, "Where in the world did you get the damn idea that I wanted to marry that jackass?"

He stumbled back, shocked at her uncharacteristic behavior. He coughed into his palm and blushed. "I always knew you weren't brother and sister. That was too easy." He paused, then tried to make an explaining gesture with his hands. Then he cleared his throat for a few seconds and scratched the back of his head. Hesitantly, he said, "And you lied because you didn't want anyone to think you were lovers. Mercenaries that aren't brother and sister are taken to be considered…lovers… most often times."

"Your point?"

He winced inwardly. Her voice was getting angrier by the second. "I've been around the two of you for a long time. And when I wasn't, you wrote me letters." He shrugged. "It's as plain as the nose on your face, Kel. You love him. He loves you. So, what's wrong with the two of you?"

"Shut up before I hurt you," she hissed. Then Keladry caught herself and straightened up. She brushed off her sleeves as if she saw something filthy on them that he could not. "I'm going to my room. Tell me what happens in the meeting before dinner." She stalked over to the door of the antechamber.

"What happened? Did you guys even talk about it?" he called to her.

She turned around and shot him an icy look.

"Oh," he said softly. "You did. I'm… I'm sorry, Kel. I didn't think it would happen like that."

"Yeah, well it did. And I don't want to hear about it anymore." She turned on her heel and walked out. 

Egavar sighed. "Right. I didn't expect either of them willing to hunt after the other."

A tall man with a short graying beard poked his head out of the council room. "Are you the man that fell out of the sky? The magus from the other world?"

"I prefer to call it a plane of existence," he answered and bowed. "Yes. That's me. I'm ready to talk now, sir."

"Come inside." He opened the door wider for Egavar. Egavar entered. He bowed graciously to King Jonathan IV and to the rest of his council. Then he took a seat offered to him by the man who opened the door. "Where is Keladry of Mindelan?"

"She had some personal business to attend to," he lied convincingly. "She wishes to be informed before dinner on your decisions, if it's allowed by his Majesty?"

"Fine with me." He paused. "These Mirans-- as you refer to them-- you say they are conquerors in your world?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, your majesty. They show mercy to no one and have slaughtered many. "He kept his eyes lowered on the table before him. Back in Lon Falas, the first time you met someone of royal family you did not look into his or her eyes. This amused Jonathan, although he did not know Egavar was doing it out of custom. "It would be best if we could plan our defense of the palace and a way to close that gateway portal in the sky."

"And how do you suggest we do this?" a man to Jonathan's left asked. He wore a bright green tunic and cloak. His golden brown hair was cropped close to his head and his blue eyes reminded Egavar of his very own cousin. To this man, Egavar did look into his eyes. He didn't seem right somehow. It was as if Egavar smelt something foreign on him that wasn't to be trusted.

"I think I may be able to close it. I have many skills. Unfortunately, flying isn't one of them. I wouldn't know how to reach the portal. Does his majesty have any suggestions?"

"We shall summon Master Numair to this meeting. The two of you may discuss plans to deal with the portal and the enemy magi of the Mirans," Jonathan said. "In the meantime, we must ensure the safety of my people from these merciless Mirans. They are no different than any other army."

"Perhaps, your majesty, if I may say-- your… Dominion Jewel?" the man in the green tunic asked.

"I do not wish to use it if there are other alternatives. The power is too strong. Now…"

~~

When Faleron and Joren reached King's Reach, there was a messenger waiting for them. The young man looked out of breath, and he was sweating in his red and yellow uniform. One of Faleron's brothers was talking with the messenger. When he saw the two 'spidren hunters' walk toward them, he jogged to meet them. There was worry etched into his face.

"All knights of Tortall that are free of duty at the moment must report to the palace. There is an army from out of another world that has attacked the palace."

"What? That doesn't make sense!" Faleron grasped his brother's shoulder. "What do you mean another world?"

"No," Joren murmured. He walked up to Faleron's brother and stared him straight in the eye. "Is the army of the Miran Empire? Tell me! Is it those scoundrels?"

He nodded.

"No! Why now?" he cried. He violently kicked a rock on the road. He turned and faced Faleron and his brother. " You know, I've finally found peace here in Tortall and they have followed to torture me. This isn't fair!"

"Are these the bad men from the world _you_ went to?" Faleron asked. 

"Yes" Joren nodded. "It's them." 

Faleron let out a deep breath. He started walking toward the door of his home. "Let us ride to the palace then. They're under attack. They need us."

"The palace," Joren thought. He furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought.

"_Yes, she's there. And yes, she is fighting them as heatedly as ever._" 

Joren closed his eyes. "I would not expect any less of her."

"Expect any less of who?" Faleron queried. He stopped and marched right back to him.

"Nothing. We have to leave right now. Let's get provisions and new horses. Have a healer look at your burns before we go. You won't be of any use if you are still wounded." Joren strode past the brothers. Faleron would have stopped him to ask more of the Mirans, but there was a cloud of sadness surrounding him.

"Is he always melancholy like this?" his brother asked.

"He used to be… different," he replied. "Four years ago. Now he's a completely different person. I almost don't recognize him."

Joren closed the door behind him. Faleron's parents had kindly given him a room to rest in before he left for the woods. He lit no candle in the dark room and kept the window shutters closed and locked. He sat down in the middle of the cold floor and cradled his head in his hands. Nothing went well for him. 

"Bullied others around in my childhood, became a mercenary more concerned with godforsaken jewels rather than the people who hired me, I… I…" he fell back onto the floor and stared at the ceiling. "I lost her. And now I fight the Mirans." He curled up on his side. "It's always been my fault. It was my fault the labafret sent us away. My fault so many pages were pushed around. My fault we didn't help out with the war first." His fist shot out and punched the flagstones of the floor. "_I_'m the one who said no when she wanted to say yes." He pressed his forehead to the cold stone. "Gods, I'm a fool."

"_Like I didn't know that before._"

"Leave me be, voice. I don't want to hear your incessant chatter," he murmured without feeling.

"_I know you don't-- too bad. I need you to defeat the army, Joren. Get up._"

He smiled. "Didn't anyone tell you that I was a worthless jerk? I cannot win the war for you."

"_You're right. You probably won't. But I need you to do something for me and no one else can do it. You will be resistant to your own power. Only you, Joren, will be able to do what I'm asking._"

"Why me? Why am I resistant to my own power?" He turned onto his back again. "What does that mean, voice?"

"_Just go to the palace. And by the Gods, make peace with her. You_ are _a fool._"

~~

A few days later.

They had attacked nonstop. Keladry was growing weary. She hugged her gray vest around her as she sat down on a bench near her old classrooms. The halls were long empty. No pages would be learning about etiquette or mathematics here.

She took shifts going in and out of the battlefield beside the palace. The palace itself was holding up very well. She heard now and then of Numair and Egavar fighting the Miran Kodestrums. They made a strong pair of mages. She felt sorry for whoever faced the two of them together. Meanwhile, Daine was asking favors of the animals to spy on the enemy. And other times, she heard rumors that the King was pressured to use the Dominion Jewel. 

"Why doesn't he? It would be over sooner."

"What are you talking about, young one?" Tkaa asked, his feathery voice immediately registering in her mind. She turned around and greeted her former instructor. "It's been four years, am I correct, former page Keladry?"

"Yes, sir. Four years."

"Hmm… What were you saying before?" He peered down at her with gentle eyes full of understanding. 

"Well…"

"You can tell me. I won't laugh."

She smiled at the mental picture of the basilisk laughing at her. "It's about the Dominion Jewel. Why doesn't the king use it?"

Tkaa paused before answering. "Before, he would have no problem using it against perhaps the Scanrans that would attack this land. He knows exactly what and who they are. But these Mirans have come from that other plane. None of us are sure what powers they possess. If I'm correct, neither do you."

Keladry sighed. "What you say _is_ true. I have fought them for a long time. And I have spent four years over in their world. But I still do not know all the powers they possess." She clenched her fists. "If only I could just fight them straight out and not worry about magic… Isn't that what my friend Egavar's doing? He is a far greater help than I can ever hope to be."

"He is helping us very well. He's a good man."

"He's a good friend," she added sincerely. "Even if he butts into my personal life too much."

Tkaa nodded and got up. "I must meet with Daine. I shall see you later."

"Bye," she said. She leaned back and groaned. "My life is far too complicated." She closed her eyes.

"There's been an attack on the south wall!" someone shouted from the battlements. Keladry gripped her sword hilt and stood up. She rushed over to the nearest window and looked out. Below, soldiers were running across the paved walks to get to the south wall. She breathed a curse and ran for the nearest set of stairs.

She flew down them at incredible speed, jumping three steps at a time. Keladry nearly collided with a sewing woman. She called back an apology as she continued to run at top speed. It was only five hours since she went off duty, but she wanted to fill up her time with fighting. It was better to do that than to have free time to think about her life.

"Have they breached the wall?" she screamed to a running soldier. He glanced at her and picked up his pace.

"They've climbed to the battlements!" he shouted. "All men off duty must report to the south wall!"

She watched him round the corner. Then she slowed down. "It would be easier to join the ranks outside the wall and assist there." She looked around. No one but her was present. She turned around and headed for the main gate.

~~

Swords clashed. Men died. Blood spilled onto the ground. "It is the siege of the capital all over again," Keladry thought to herself as she ran through another Miran with her sword. She deflected the blow of another man. Her foot slipped in someone's blood. She pivoted on her heel and spun around, barely catching herself. The soldier, having leaned most of his weight on her, started to fall. She shifted her own weight and brought up her knee to catch him in the stomach. 

She grimaced and brought her sword over him, stabbing in the back. Keladry wrenched her sword free and charged onward into the fray. One thought ran through her mind.

"If this battle is so like the other, will I die again?"

"RETREAT!"

She blinked and stopped herself from charging another unfortunate soldier. He was fallen on the ground between two bodies. His arm was broken. She could tell by the angle at which his forearm was. He feebly gasped for air. "Should I spare him?" she thought. "Of course I should. They sounded the retreat and I'm not focused on bloodlust. But he _is_ a Miran." There was fear in his eyes because he knew he was her enemy and he knew she stood over him with the power to kill him. Even with the order of retreat, he could not move so fast. 

"I should kill him," she thought. "His people have killed so many. And if I let him live, he will go on killing others just because he loves his country so."

"Aren't you going to kill me?" he croaked.

"Run. Run now or else," she threatened with a cold look. He scrambled to his feet cradling his broken arm. The young man took one last look at her before sprinting away like a frightened deer over the bodies of the dead.

Keladry retreated to the wall. She looked around. "Since when was Tortall inclined to kill so much?"

"Since the black hole never closed and the numbers of these Mirans is forever increasing," a lieutenant told her as he joined Keladry. He was about thirty-five with a long scar running down his jaw line and a pockmarked face. "The new wizard called Egavar thinks that they want to turn all their forces on this world."

"Then that either means they've already conquered the rest of their home world or they're setting them free to concentrate on us."

"Either way, the conquest of another country on a different plane of existence makes these scum feel they're invincible."

Her gaze swept across the field before her. "They're not."

"Nothing is." He nodded. "I suggest you report to your commanding officer, Lady Keladry." He gave her a curt nod and returned to his own regiment. 

She frowned at his address. Lady Keladry was no lady at all. She wiped her sword off and sheathed it. She also attempted at cleaning up her face by wiping it with her sleeve. Keladry usually didn't bother, but she felt someone had done this before for her. She shook off the feeling and continued walking to the main gate. Their forces had withdrawn there, too. They had literally surrounded the palace, save for the royal forest.

"Maybe it'll just be a stalemate and they'll just go home," she thought, keeping her face calm and cool so as not to betray her thoughts. The soldiers and knights that were scattered among them watched her as she walked past. Their eyes burned holes in her. She felt scalded by their stares. "Yes," she directed her thoughts at them as if she were speaking. "It's me, the girl who wanted to be a knight. Keep staring at me like that and I just might take the final tests after all. Now mind your own business. There is a new war being waged, right?"

She turned her back on them and held her head high. Keladry would cut out her tongue before giving them the satisfaction of fazing her. Safely inside the main walls, she headed over to a man in a chain mail shirt on a white stallion with brown spots. 

"Lady Keladry, how does everything fare outside the walls? I've not a chance to look yet," he said as she reached him.

Keladry bowed slightly. "It fares as well as it did yesterday. Perhaps more died today."

"Us or them?" 

"Definitely them," she confirmed. Silently she added, "I'd like to meet their emperor who would conquer so many nations with soldiers like those. He must be a expert strategist if his soldiers are only that strong to be defeated by us in a headlong rush."

Her commanding officer, Sir Niles of Nicoline-- a kinsman of Esmond as Kel later discovered, seemed bothered by her response. Maybe he was angry that so many were dying-- even if they were foe. He goaded his beautiful stallion forward. "Mind Buri. She's covering for me while I ride out to reach the rest of the King's Own."

"It's about time they got here," she thought, but aloud said, "As you wish, my Lord."

He rode off, through the main gate. Four other men on identical dark brown horses flanked Niles. Keladry waited until they were out of sight to resume walking. She met Buri at the East wall and received her orders to patrol the wall bordering the Nobles' wing. After the last bell, she would return to receive new orders and maybe fight.

"Patrolling? Sounds like paradise compared to the things out there," she thought. Keladry allowed herself to yawn and stretch as she made her way to the Nobles' wing. It would be just her luck to see any frightened ladies hysterical over the attack. And it would be worse if they refused to be protected by her just as they refused to be served by her when she was a page.

Other men stuck on patrolling nodded to her respectfully as she passed them. She nodded back and continued on her route. After a few minutes, she heard a door open in the hall she was in. Footsteps joined her own. Without turning around, she called, "May I help you?"

"I've never needed your help, Kel. I'm just here for a friendly talk."

She stopped and turned around with a smirk. "Neal. So you're actually talking to me. What happened to the avoid-Keladry-as-much-as-possible game?"

Neal chuckled. "Got tired of playing, I guess. I don't want to come off as a whiny jealous ex."

"Could've fooled me," she replied.

"Aww, that's cruel, Kel," he covered his heart with his hand and pretended to cry.

"Oh, stop it. What did you want to talk about?"

He shrugged. "Things. Have you fought out there?"

"Yes," she answered. "It's no different than fighting anywhere else. Except you have to worry about all the important people like the royal family." She almost showed her disgust. "As if we would treat commoners no less if it were they who we were protecting."

"You know King Jonathan cares for his people more than he does himself. But the Mirans aren't attacking the commoners."

"I know," she sighed. "But back in the other world, they did. And the Kings in most the countries I was in were slow to react."

Neal nodded. "I see." He studied her face. "Enough of that kind of talk. So, how is he?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Joren. He's the one I couldn't compete with, remember?"

She growled. "I shouldn't have told you it was him."

He grinned. "I had to admit, for a while I was in disbelief that the guy who used to bully us around was the one who got you and not me." He leaned back on the wall. "But then again, I wasn't with you for the last four years through whatever terrible things happened."

"Joren wasn't there for me _like that_," she corrected with a slight blush.

"So she blushes," he thought. "Right. I know. You two stubborn idiots didn't find out until now about the other. But still, he was there with you. Maybe not as a lover, but as a friend."

"Your point?" She blinked. That was the second time she said the phrase that day. People were explaining things to her all day and she had to listen and ask things like an ignorant little girl.

"Even if you both don't want to be together, then you can at least remain good friends. See? Even I'm talking to you and I was furious a month ago. Now, how bad can your fights with him be?"

"Don't ask."

"Well, take my advice."

"We _are_ friends," she insisted.

"I didn't think friends avoided each other like the plague."

"You avoided me like the plague."

"But I came back."

"Maybe he will, too, then."

"Kel."

"Or maybe not. If he doesn't, it's his own fault. So don't go blaming me for caring."

He narrowed his eyes. "Caring? I'd say you were caring too little."

"Ha! Since when did you become an expert in matters of the heart? All you've ever had are crushes your whole life."

Surprisingly, he started laughing. "Are you _picking a fight_ with me because Joren isn't here to pick a fight with?"

"I am not," she said indignantly.

"Sure you're not. What's with all that 'Ha! Since when did you--'"

"Shut up! I'll pop you one so help me--"

"See? See?"

"Argh…"

"I knew the old Kel was in there somewhere. You were looking too depressed to be the Kel I know." He started to walk away. "Now, if you see Joren, punch him for me and for the sake of all that's good, just marry the ingrate."

She couldn't help but smile. It seemed Neal still had that effect on people. She thought back to earlier in the day. Now Keladry wished she wasn't so mean to Egavar when he tried to say the same things that Neal did. But Neal just had a way of saying things perfectly whereas Egavar was always a bit clumsy.

"I should find him with Numair. I ought to apologize."

Another guard walked past. She sighed.

"But, of course, I have patrol duty." She paused and added to no one in particular. "But I'm still not marrying the jerk. He had his chance." She knew she didn't mean it, but it was comforting to just say it.

~~

Joren rode beside Faleron and his men at arms, listening to the world around him. 

"What are you thinking about?" Faleron asked.

"Nothing really. Besides the general outrage towards the Mirans."

"Right."

"You?"

"I hope not many men are lost to the bloodthirsty monsters." He gingerly touched his hands' burn scars.

"Are you talking about spidrens or Mirans?" Joren asked, eyeing Faleron's hands.

"Both actually. Maybe the spidrens will attack more now that we've taken a break from our hunt to defend the palace."

Joren snorted. "I hope not."

"I hope not, too."

"_I knew you could be in a more friendly spirit! Just look at you, actually having a nice conversation._"

"You again," he thought. "What do you want?"

"_Speak aloud. It's hard hearing your thoughts._"

"Too bad. Thoughts are all you're getting. Faleron thinks I'm crazy when I talk to you aloud."

"_As you wish_. _You must go somewhere else for me, my dear Joren._"

"Somewhere else? Where?"

"_I want you personally to assassinate the Emperor of Miran._"

"Why me?"

The voice didn't answer him for a long time. He almost gave up and decided to forget about it when it spoke up.

"_You are resistant to your own power._"

For the first time, Joren was able to tell the gender of the voice. It was a female's voice. A goddess was talking to him? Was she a sorceress? He couldn't believe all that was happening to him, and not one word spoken aloud. Faleron turned to him.

"What's wrong now?"

"Gods often choose human champions, don't they?"

"Yes. What? A god has chose you?" he laughed.

"I don't honestly know. It could explain all the voices."

Faleron frowned. "Joren, have a talk with somebody who knows about these things. Hey! We're meeting up with the King's Champion on the road. She went out to the countryside after meeting Keladry, but she's returning now. I heard she was helped along by the Goddess a lot."

"What?"

"Yeah! There's a rumor--"

Faleron started to cough. He coughed so hard that Joren had to slap him on the back a few times. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he ceased coughing. "That was weird. My throat just closed up."

"_Teaches him to talk about the gods in rumors._"

"He offended you?" Joren asked.

" _No. Why would I be?_ _Now, listen every now and then for my order to assassinate the emperor._"

"I can't believe you're giving me this responsibility. I don't even know where he is."

"_You can bring yourself to him. All in good time, you'll know why._"

"Of all the people who had to live my life, it had to be me," he groaned.

~~

Author: I hope this tides you over until the 10th of January. 

I have one more favor to ask of all of you while I'm in my off week. 

I already have major plans for another story (not a sequel to A Life Less Ordinary) but another one for the K/J pairing. No, I promise not to bore you with another struggle for their romance (snicker) because frankly, I'm quite sick of that stuff. Instead, the main focus will be directed at something else. This story will feature the main characters from all three series (Song of the Lioness, The Immortals, Protector of the Small) in an alternate world-- slightly futuristic. No, this won't be the stereotypical futuristic world. I think you know me better than that. I'll make it sufferable.

Basically, I need detailed character (personality and physical) descriptions on characters from the Lioness Quartet and The Immortals. I _have_ read these books. I do not have access to these books. I do not have a good memory. Therefore, I need your help. Please, please, please… I know somebody out there can help me… or is at least willing… credits will be given to those who send anything at all (my e-mail: SilverwLng@aol.com). 

With that being said, let me say once again that I treasure all the people who read my stuff and those who review especially. Take care and wish me luck on my stupid semester finals.


	22. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 21

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 21

By Sulia Serafine

[1-7-01. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

MY FIRST CHAPTER FOR THE NEW YEAR!

I'd also like to thank those who gave me help with the character descriptions. Your names will be in the "closing credits" of the new stories as soon as I do them. If anyone else want to help me, please e-mail me at [silverwLng@aol.com][1], okay? I'm finally getting around to working on my tiny website, and there's a new section for my Tortall stories. I'll tell you the address when I deem it worthy to be seen by you. Enjoy the chapter, I know you've been waiting for it!]

It was two hours until dawn when the woman's voice woke Joren. At first, she whispered to him, slight suggestions of rising up from his bed mat. He mentally swatted at it like a fly buzzing around his ear. He turned over on his mat at least a dozen times before groaning into the crook of his sleeve.

"_Joren._"

"Go away," he thought, having recognized the woman's voice once more. "Can't it wait?"

"_Destiny waits for no man._"

He chuckled to himself. "Oh, yes. I can feel the dramatic overtone in this one."

"_Be serious. This is important._"

Joren sat up. He frowned. "Don't call me boy. I hate that." He grouchily reached for his jacket and yanked it over his head. Then, he fumbled with the twisted sleeves. He took the jacket off, untwisted the sleeves, and put it on again. He called out, "So what is it?"

"_Remember what I told you? About the Emperor?_"

He nodded. Joren got on his knees and packed up his bedroll. Next, he looked around to make sure everyone was still asleep. With him were Faleron, his younger brother, and a few men at arms from King's Reach. Then he stood up and walked over to where the horses were. Fortunately, his was farthest away from the camp and awoke without much noise. He stroked the horse's nose, calming him down before it panicked. "So, where do I go?"

"_You won't have to go far on this plane. Why don't you head out fourteen steps east from the campfire and I'll give you further instructions there._"

Joren scratched his head, trying to remember which way was east. When he figured that out, he mapped out fourteen steps in his mind. He grimaced inwardly. "You want me to go to the latrine? _Now_? Killing the stupid Emperor requires a trip to the latrine first?"

The voice held no humor, or if she did-- she did not reveal it to him. "_I didn't know it was the latrine. But now that you mention it, go ahead and make use of the latrine before we head out._"

Joren shuffled over to the latrine. "By Mithros' shield…"

"_I want to brief you now on what will be happening._"

His face turned bright red. "Do you really want to talk when I'm at the latrine? I'm kind of busy here!"

"_Oh, yes. I forgot. What, should I turn my back?_"

"Like you have a back to turn…" Joren muttered. A few minutes later, he emerged from the latrine behind the bushes and mounted his horse. "Okay. I'm ready."

"_Take the cat into your hand._"

"What cat?" he asked bewildered. "You mean, that little ivory one?"

"_Yes._"

He did as he was told, although he had no idea what the ivory cat had to do with anything. "I have it now. What next?"

"_Command a portal to appear leading to the Emperor's store room in his great palace. Once you arrive, you will find weapons waiting for you suitable to the task._"

At that instruction, he froze. The little cat could open a portal? If he had known it could do that, he would've kept it for himself more than half a year ago at winter. He shrugged and summoned a portal. A black hole appeared in the air in front of him. His horse neighed in surprise. Joren stroked its mane, trying to calm it down again. For a moment, he thought he saw a purple bit of fur in the black hole.

He shivered. "Do I go into the portal now?"

"_Yes._"

He nodded and goaded his frightened horse forward. When it wouldn't move, he dismounted and led it by the reins. He opted to half shut his eyes as he approached the portal. It was simply black-- no shadow nor ray of light. It was like the space did not exist in that small hole, and if Joren stepped inside, he wouldn't exist either.

"How much different is non-existence and death anyhow? Death supposedly has an afterlife, but I don't care much about _that_." He thought to himself and opened his eyes. "Oh Gods…" 

He entered the portal.

~~

"So, you forgive me for yelling at you?" Keladry asked.

Egavar tapped his chin. "Well, I don't know…"

"What!" She stomped on his foot. The Nodestrum cried out and grabbed his foot. 

"I mean, yes! I forgive you! I forgive you for _that_, too!" he said loudly. Keladry shook her head. "At least you still have a sense of humor, Kel. It's good to see that. I thought you'd gone all suicidal like last time."

"Suicidal? Whom do you take me for?" she glared at him mockingly.

"Well, you have to admit-- you _were_ really depressed when um, Owen died." He coughed softly.

She nodded. Her gaze drifted toward the floor where it remained. The silence grew until Egavar decided to pick up the conversation again. "If you're asking forgiveness from me about earlier, than does that mean you and Joren--"

"No," she interrupted. "It simply means that I could have talked with you in a more agreeable manner than yell. It doesn't mean that Joren and I…" She trailed off on purpose since Egavar knew what she meant. When Keladry saw his skeptical expression, she added, "He had his chance. I'm not out hunting for another broken heart. It's his problem now." She paused. "And besides-- we have the Mirans to worry about. Who has the time for love?"

She walked away, calmer than the previous time. Egavar frowned. 

"Love? Oh, I'd say _you_ care. You always did try to hide it with that mask of yours."

At the end of the day, Numair found Egavar by Balor's Needle. The Tortallian mage seemed distressed. His face was paler than usual and his clothes were wrinkled-- almost like he slept in them. "There's a problem."

"What problem?" 

"You know that portal? The one leading to your world?" Numair asked with a nervous air. 

Egavar nodded slowly. He did not like his friend's tone one bit. "What about it?"

"When I was examining it from the top of Balor's Needle, I sensed another one just like it."

"WHAT?"

Numair held up his hands. "Listen to me for a moment. It was very far away. A few days' ride, most likely. As soon as I felt its existence, the portal outside our palace walls wavered." He hesitated. The mage searched his mind for the right words… the right phrases. "I have reason to believe that the presence of this second 'gateway' weakens the first. Egavar, if the first one shuts and we cannot find the second one--"

"The Mirans are staying here forever," Egavar finished. He closed his eyes. "This is unbelievable."

"I haven't had the chance to tell anyone else. Come, we must inform them immediately. Maybe we can send out a party to find the second portal and make sure it leads back to the other plane."

The two mages rushed across the open area besides Balor's Needle. Nobles and guards passing by stopped to watch two of the most dignified men in the palace run like two nervous jackrabbits. And then, a loud noise erupted from somewhere beyond the palace walls. The fighting was beginning again.

~~

"_You are resistant to your own power. Don't let yourself be drawn in to your own tricks._"

"I… I don't understand you. You keep saying the same things, but I just can't grasp the… the meaning…"

"_Remember what I tell you. And always trust me._"

"Why should I? Everything you've said and done to me has a supernatural reaction that I can't explain."

"_You detest me? Or do you fear me?_"

"A little bit of both. I detest you for making me feel I can blindly follow your orders without any substantial doubt."

"_And you fear my power to do so._"

"Yes."

~~

Joren opened his eyes. The stone floor of the storeroom was cold against his clammy cheek. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. For a few seconds in time, he felt like he was slipping in and out of existence. One moment, he could feel the solid floor beneath him. Another, he was floating in empty air. 

"My body feels like it turned into a billion pieces and is still trying to put itself back together," he muttered, gasping for air. Cold sweat dripped from his chin. He wiped it off on his forearm. Joren turned around and sat on his bottom, surveying his surroundings. "Where is my horse?'

It was beyond the palace. It was waiting for him under a tree that was bent and twisted almost as in torture. He could see the animal now, unsteadily trotting around the trunk. It snorted at its new location and skittishly galloped past anything that moved. The shade was nice where the horse was. And the grass was a beautiful, almost dreamy shade of green. No color was like that in reality. It had to be magic, to keep it looking so ideally green.

"My mind's floating everywhere, too," he whispered, "if I could see the horse. Where am I?"

Shelves stocked with jars lined the walls. Barrels and sacks were stacked around him. There was only one opening. It was the door to his left. He took a deep breath and stood up. "The store room." He bit his lip. "Hey!" he mentally projected. "Hey, are you there?"

He eagerly listened for a response. 

"Where are you? Why won't you answer me?" he asked softly. "You're the one who led me here. I don't know where to go."

As if to answer his prayers, a bundle fell from a shelf above him and struck his head. He cried out and stumbled forward. "Ouch! What the…" He whirled around and crouched down. Joren untied the thin cord around the burlap bundle. It revealed a crossbow with twelve bolts of excellent quality. Then there was a dagger with leather strips tied around the handle, and last, a map. He nearly grinned when he saw a sword in its scabbard propped up against a barrel. Joren drew the sword from its sheath and tested its weight. It was perfectly suited to his usual balance and grip. He sheathed it again and picked up the map.

Joren chuckled. "At least I know where to go now. " He traced a dotted line on the map with his finger, through several rooms and hidden passageways until he came to the throne room. His breath caught in his throat. "The Miran Emperor."

Then, reality hit him like a ton of bricks.

"I have to assassinate the Emperor."

~~

After that, something took over him. His fear, his doubt, his uncertainty… all of it washed away as something stronger took hold of his body and forced it to sneak along the route outlined in the map. He ran across the stone floors so fluidly, it was like he was gliding. And the whole time, Joren couldn't control his own body. 

"I'm being flung forward by destiny," he mused as he neared a corner. Beyond it, two burly guards stood sentinel in front the throne room doors. Rationality told him to find another entrance. He backtracked all the way to an open window by the end of the main hall. Something told him to look down. His footsteps appeared on the overly plush red velvet carpet that covered the end of the hall. He smoothed it over with his right foot and stepped back onto the stone floor. 

He examined a shut window. There were carvings of birds and animals on the thick wood. He couldn't fathom how happy and cheery things such as those wooden shutters ended up in the palace of the Mirans. The blonde Tortallian pushed it out of his mind. His concentration went back to finding a way to the throne room. Joren inspected his sword, making sure it was fastened tightly to his side in its scabbard. The dagger was in his boot and the crossbow was slung on his back.

Cautiously, he opened the shutters and looked out. All was peaceful. The gray sky did not threaten to cry its tears. The wind blew hard, though. This kind of wind reminded him of the wind he felt on sea-bordering cities. 

"Note to self: Check the location of the palace later for any bodies of water," he muttered monotonously and leaned out. It was almost perfect. The large ancient flagstones making up the outer layer of the palace provided handholds and footholds for him. He leaned a little further. The roof looked secure enough to sneak upon. Were there guards?

"On the roof? In this windy weather?" he thought. "If there are, oh well."

He climbed out the window and clung to the side of the palace. Then he closed the shutters by nudging it with his left foot. Bit by bit, Joren made his way onto the roof and breathed a sigh of relief. It was hard to believe he was haphazardly scaling the palace walls to the throne room to assassinate the Emperor of Mira. 

"This is really it," he thought and slumped down to a sitting position. He moved his sword when the hilt poked him in the ribs. "Damn. I'm really doing this. I can't be doing this." He gritted his teeth. "I'm no hero. I'm just an ordinary guy who got lucky for the last four years and managed to live. I don't need this… this pressure."

He looked expectantly up at the sky. "Well? Where are you? Voice! You took me here! Tell me what to do! How does one really go about killing the most important man in the world?" He stood up and paced. "Do I just take aim with the godforsaken crossbow and let the bolt fly? What if there is a magical shield? How can there _not_ be any defense against something like this?!"

The wind started to lash out at him. He threw his arms up over his head as the wind forcefully slammed into him. He braced himself against it. "Stop this! Stop all of this! I don't want to do it!"

The wind stopped. He gasped. Joren's eyes widened as he peered about. No one was present but he. He ran a hand nervously through his hair like always and quietly walked across the room back to above the throne room. He found a few more secure handholds in the stone wall and lowered himself beside a painted glass window. A thin layer of grime covered it. Apparently, no one looked over the maintenance of the painted glass. 

He came as close as he dared to a square of pale yellow glass. Joren squinted to look through. There were quite a few people inside. Men and women in fine clothing and jewelry all looked toward a blue-veiled woman seated on a throne and a tall blonde man whose back was turned to them as he gazed up at the painting of the palace from decades before.

"The Emperor," he breathed. He lowered himself down to another window. This one had a small hole in the top corner. He leaned down to listen as well as look through the colored glass. The acoustics of the throne room allowed all their words to echo to him. He could hear them as if he were standing beside them.

"… The gateway to the other plane is wavering, your Highness. It is difficult for us to communicate messages to our generals on the other side."

The Emperor, whose back was still turned, raised a gloved hand and gestured for someone else to speak. A man with midnight black hair and mustache stepped forward. 

"The last report _did_ state that we were breaking through the palace's defense."

The woman with the veil-- the Empress-- spoke. "_I _have been informed that a Nodestrum from Lon Falas has arrived on the other plane and is aiding them. We do not know what this magus knows. If it would be approved, I want to withdraw our forces."

The Emperor shook his head. But at the moment, Joren didn't care about the emperor. He stared at the empress. His heart almost stopped beating. The wound over his heart throbbed. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack. 

"Her voice," he whispered. "It's… it's her! She's the voice in my head."

The Empress calmly turned her head in his direction. She obviously knew his every move, and seemed pleased that he figured out who she was. What Joren couldn't understand was-- why did the Empress want her own husband assassinated? What role did she have in this?

Apparently, she was still reading his thoughts because she lifted up her veil to answer his question.

Her dainty nose. The dreamy hazel eyes. The ghosts of youthful freckles and light brown hair that glinted both auburn and blonde in direct sunlight. It all came crashing down on him wave after wave. He would've let go of the wall in shock if he weren't clinging to it in desperation. 

"… Kel? The Empress is Kel's counterpart?"

She smiled in his direction and nodded imperceptibly. She called softly, "My Lord, please sit. You are tired, are you not?"

The Emperor turned and looked at her fondly. "I thank your considerate thoughts, my Empress, but no. I do not feel inclined to rest yet."

Joren moved away from the window in fear that he would scream and give away his position. He clumsily started to climb back to the roof. He did this without caution, seeming to forget how many feet up above ground he was. When he finally reached the level roof, he flung himself up and landed with a grunt. And he stayed in that sprawled position as he played over the latest image in his mind again and again.

"The Emperor…" he choked. "The Emperor… is me?"

~~

Author: I couldn't help releasing the chapter early. There was change in schedule at school. My exams will last till the 11th, so I took the opportunity of a weekend to get this done now. But after this, I'm seriously postponing the next chapter until all my exams are cleared and I am settled into my new classes. I know, I know. I do too many cliffhangers. But how else do I keep you guys hooked, huh? Please tell me what you think. Take care.

   [1]: mailto:silverwLng@aol.com



	23. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 22

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 22

By Sulia Serafine

[1-10-01. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

I'd also like to thank those who gave me help with the character descriptions. Your names will be in the "closing credits" of the new stories as soon as I do them. If anyone else want to help me, please e-mail me at [silverwLng@aol.com][1], okay? I'm finally getting around to working on my tiny website, and there's a new section for my Tortall stories. I'll tell you the address when I deem it worthy to be seen by you. Enjoy the chapter, I know you've been waiting for it! Please, tell me what you think..]

Days later:

The portal continued to waver, but was stable enough to replenish the number of soldiers lost by the Mirans. The defense of the Palace was slowly deteriorating. The people within it dreaded the day that the defense would be gone completely. Keladry looked up in the sky to where the black hole was situated. She could almost swear she saw purple flash in it. 

"My mind is playing tricks on me," she said under her breath and proceeded to find Buri and get her orders. The King's Own had arrived, with the Lioness not too far behind. Alanna always came to greet Keladry before Jonathan. Keladry suspected that Alanna felt guilty for what happened to her. The Lady Knight probably had the notion that if King Jonathan had allowed Alanna to meet Keladry and guide her through her years as page that Kel wouldn't have been thrown into another world.

"What's done is done. No one can change it," she thought.

As she walked on the top of the outer palace wall, Keladry spied a cloud of dust rising up on the road toward her. A group of a half a dozen men was wearing Tortallian clothing. A knight led them. "He looks familiar."

She jogged toward the corner of that wall. The former page could remember when she would be terrified of jogging on top of the walls. The height nearly paralyzed her in the past. And she could remember who always tried to help by being cruel.

~~

__

"Don't be a lump now. What are you waiting for?" Joren called up to her. Leaves rustled where Keladry was crouching on a branch. She sluggishly moved toward the center of the tree and hugged the trunk.

"Waiting? Oh, just waiting for this tree to get a little shorter," she sarcastically replied.

"I don't have time for this. If you can't get down from there, then I'll just ride ahead to Arthados without you."

Keladry growled at him. "I wouldn't be up here if you hadn't slipped that pinch of belladonna into my food! It knocked me out for half a day and you carried me up here!"

She could hear him snort from below. 

"Well, excuse me if I wanted to help you for once."

"Help? You call this help?"

"Well, how else would you have gotten so far up, huh? Climbing down's a lot harder than climbing up because you have to watch your step." If the thick foliage wasn't blocking her, she could have sworn he was grinning. "Hey! What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

She gripped the tree trunk tighter. "Oh, when I try to kill you _it definitely won't make _you _stronger."_

~~

"It would have been better if he'd gone to Arthados without me," she thought. She nearly died at Arthados. What happened there regretfully changed her view on life. It made her to think twice before helping anyone. "I shouldn't have gone with him. It's his fault. It's always his fault. But… he wouldn't leave me behind." She shook her head. "Hey!" she called to the gatekeeper. "Who approaches?"

The man lifted up his helmet to get a better look at her. "Oh! It's you, Lady Keladry."

"Yes, yes," she said impatiently. "Who approaches the Palace?"

"Sir Faleron of King's Reach!" another man yelled back. It was one of the older knights who took charge of who entered and exited the palace. He looked anxiously around with a spyglass. "There are no signs of Mirans," he reported. "Open the gates! Give them entrance!"

Keladry watched below as the gates were opened for the small party. Half a dozen exhausted men entered. She could make out the exhausted expression on Faleron's face. "Wait," she thought. "Joren is supposed to be with Faleron." She ran across the battlements to the nearest ladder. 

"Faleron!" Keladry called as she put on her gloves and used them to grip the edges of the ladder and slide down. She ran to her friend's side. She tried to catch her breath as he dismounted from his horse.

"Kel? Is something wrong?"

"Where's Joren?" she asked. For a split second, she didn't want to show anyone that she was worried about him. Still, Keladry had to know and let her emotion surface to her eyes. Faleron gazed at her guiltily.

"Umm… You see," he began. Keladry came closer and forced him to keep looking at her. He shamefully turned his head. "He disappeared one night. That was it. I wanted to search for him, but we were so pressed for time, Kel-- I swear!" He started to blame himself for her disappointed look. It vanished in a second and Keladry put her mask on again.

"So, he's being a lazy good for nothing by skipping out on us," she said tartly, expertly covering up her hurt. "For a second, I thought someone had sent him off to do something of importance. We'd be in trouble then. He can't do anything right."

Faleron opened his mouth to speak. Then he decided better on it and nodded. "Right. I shall see you later, Kel."

"Goodbye, Faleron."

He let a servant take his horse and briskly walked toward his men at arms. Keladry took a deep breath and returned to her post.

~~

Joren went back to the storeroom as silently and swiftly as he had left it. He placed the weapons given to him in the bundle he found them in. Then he tucked it behind an earthen jar of spices. His arms moved mechanically as if he was going to breakdown if he didn't exhibit control over himself. Finally, the wretched young man curled up behind one of the storeroom's shelves and closed his eyes.

It might have been hours. He continued to lie there like a dying man pondering his life. Presently, the door opened. Perhaps it was servant or a guard. He or she could find him and have him killed. It just might as well be the answer to his problems.

"Joren, I know you're here. Come out. We have to talk."

"Go away," he replied to the Empress without lifting his head. "I don't want anything to do with you or any of this."

She found him and knelt by his side. "I know what you're feeling."

He turned his head and glared at her. His voice was dripping with venom. "How could _you_ possibly know _anything_ about _me_?"

"Because you're just like him."

He got up to a sitting a position and pointed a finger at her. "Don't say that! I'm nothing like him! He's a fucking murderer! _He_'s the one responsible for the agony that this world suffers!"

The Empress's face contorted into a more gloomy expression. It seemed wrong for natural beauty like that to be sad. Still, Joren did not relent from his furious accusations and reproaches. She shook her head. "I know. But please, hear me out. I've spent so much of my energy bringing you here."

Joren punched the floor. He could feel the skin on his knuckles get scraped by the stone. It brought a stinging sensation to his hand that he completely ignored in his blind anger. "Why me? Why the guy who resembles the Emperor? What's so magical about it?"

"I don't know. That is the way it was written in Old Magic. As counterparts, your souls are nearly the same, and so is your inner power. You are resistant to your own power," she repeated. The older woman actually thought it would calm him to say it. 

She was wrong.

"Oh, don't even try that!" He stood up and stared down at her. "I don't suppose it says in Old Magic that I am also resistant to not killing my twin, huh?"

"He's not your twin," she corrected lamely, getting on her own feet. The Empress wrung her hands nervously.

"Like I care!" he yelled.

"Please be quiet! We'll be caught!" She held up her hands and grasped his shoulders. "I know, you're angry. You feel confused and betrayed by the world. It isn't fair to you. It isn't fair to anyone how the world works."

He calmly removed her hands from him. He took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. "I know that already. And by now, I've accepted the rest of the world for being the dead end that it is. But people? Oh, Gods on High, I don't know what to do with people." He pointed to the door of the storeroom. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I have been missing from _my home_ for _four_ years. I could walk out that door and return there. It's where I belong. You had no right to take me away." 

The Empress looked away. "I know I had no right to do that. But it was the only way to save us."

Joren came close to her side and said angrily into her ear, "What did you _do_?"

She blinked away tears. His voice made her distraught. All at once, his suffering was poured into her so that she identified with his forlorn heart. Joren stomped away and rested his forehead on the wall. He punched the stone walls furiously, not caring how it hurt his already injured hands. She wiped at her moist eyelashes. "Please, don't do that. Stop it; you'll hurt yourself." She put her hands over her face. "Okay. I'll tell you. I sent the labafret to roam where you and Keladry were. Knowing you, you could find your own way to make it mad and send you to this world." She smiled a little. Then, she sat down, her glimmering blue gown settling around her like a pool of water. A whimper could be heard from his direction. The Empress continued. "I was hoping that the two of you would become close. She was meant to be with Neal, but I couldn't let that happen when I needed you to be with her. It would be even better in a place where Neal didn't exist." She paused. "But I was wrong about that. Owen was there."

"Damn selfish of you," he muttered.

"I know. But please, there's more." She touched her wedding ring. "I knew you would be stronger if you had someone. I didn't know any other girl that could force herself to put up with you long enough to fall in love."

"Put up with me?" he echoed. "Oh, thanks for the boost in confidence."

"You know its true!" she shot back. He kept shamefully silent. "It doesn't matter now. Joren, now that our two planes are overlapping with each other to create portals, you _must_ kill him. I know you didn't mean to open that portal, but--" She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Joren whirled around.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything," she replied evenly.

"No, no. You said something. What is it?" he demanded. "What are you hiding from me?" When she remained quiet, he crouched down by her. "Hey! You're the one who wanted to explain things. So explain already!"

She took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have given it to you. It's my fault. I just wanted someone to stop my husband from conquering the world. I didn't want to drag another universe into this."

"You're not answering the question."

Hesitantly, she spoke. "The cat, Joren. Hold it in your hand."

He never broke his gaze from her as he reached into his pouch and held the tiny ivory cat in his palm.

"Now, tell me a lie."

He blinked. "What?"

"Try to tell me a lie," she repeated quietly. "Any lie would do. Tell me your name is Owen."

Joren frowned. "But that's ridiculous. Why would I want to…?" Joren stared at the little animal figure in his hand. His eyes widened. "No, no this isn't what I think it is."

"Tell me your name is Owen," she ordered. 

"My name is O…" He cleared his throat. "My name is Ooooo….Joren." He got a terrible coppery taste on his tongue. "Ugh. I can't say it. I can't… lie…" He stared at the cat. "No! That isn't possible! I don't believe it!"

"What's so hard to believe? Have you ever lied while holding that cat in your hand?"

He shook his head. "But-- no! I--"

~~

__

He gripped the tiny ivory cat tightly in his hand. "Well then, I'd command the labafrets to bring Egavar to Tortall! Maybe he'd know how to help me! And while they're at it, they can let the Mirans come in this land for our knights to fight and defeat!" He waved his arms about in mock melodrama. "Why, we could fix everyone's fucking problems, couldn't we?"

~~

"Labafrets obey the Truth," he whispered. "Mithros have pity on me, it _is_ true. The Truth Stone!" He stared at the cat. He sneered. Then, in one impulsive move, he threw the cat at the wall. It shattered and fell to the floor. Joren cursed under his breath, dropping onto his knees and sorting through the shards of ivory. 

"Why did you do that?"

"To see this," he answered and picked up a flawless diamond roughly the shape of a baby acorn. "This is it, huh? The ivory was crafted around the diamond. I'm guessing you did that so I would buy it for her, didn't you?"

She nodded solemnly. "You will have time enough to ponder these things later, but we must plan for your task."

He sighed. "Why do you want your husband killed?"

"There's no other way to stop him," she replied. Tears sprung to her eyes again. "I've tried for so long! So, so very long… I love him too much to let him do this to the world." She tilted her head back. Her voice became gentler, if it was possible. "I remember… when we were young." She wiped her eyes. "I remember a time when he told me. He told me that I was the only thing that kept him anchored into life. This monarchy has always been a horrible one. We were hoping to change that." She paused and blinked. "Then I went away to tend to my ill mother. I was gone for a very long time and he fell under the influence of bad men. And then… you know the rest. He's too gone for me to do anything."

"You could try some more," he suggested quietly.

"People are dying as we speak. The world cannot wait for me try anymore. Goddess, you don't know how much this hurts me. To kill my husband?"

"To kill Keladry," he thought. "That's how she feels. The same way I feel about killing Kel. Or abandoning her." He smiled weakly at the older woman. "I suppose now the world has to wait for me to try."

They stayed like that for a while. Joren knelt down and started to gather the fragments of ivory off the floor. He guiltily placed them in his pouch. Then he turned to the Empress and coughed softly. "Yes? What is it?" He looked doubtful for a moment. "Tell me. What's on your mind?"

"Are there others that are willing to help us?"

"Yes. There are men more loyal to me than him. I shall call them to guard our chambers tonight. And you will do it then." She wiped her eyes again. "I… I must go. I have to spend time with him before--"

"What do I do until then?"

"I shall send one of my servants to you. You will know him right away." She departed from the room. He carefully closed the door, making sure no one was watching. He waited until he no longer heard the footsteps of the woman, then backed away. For a steady while, he contemplated his decision. At last he nodded to himself.

And so, it was agreed that he would kill the Emperor of Mira on the third day of autumn in the Palace of Woes.

Joren sat down again. He drew his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth. His head was a mess. He was going to kill a man who looked exactly like him, save for age. And Kel? Oh, Gods, the last four years was meant to make them strong-- to make them strong _together_. 

"I hate my life," he whispered. He ran a hand through his hair. He snuffed the wick of the lantern nearest him and stayed where he was on the floor. Half the room plunged into darkness.

A few minutes later, the room was still dark. The door creaked as it inched open. A youth about sixteen years old with curly brown hair and gray eyes crept into the room. He was short and slightly on the chubby side. Joren squinted. His heart immediately lightened. "That isn't who I think it is."

"H-hello? Is anyone here?" the boy called out. "The Empress sent me for Joren of Stone Mountain. Hello?"

Joren struck a match and lit the lantern. The boy nearly jumped. He was frightened by the sudden action. 

"Are you Joren?"

He got no response.

"Oh. I guess you are," the youth shrugged. "My name is--"

"Owen?" Joren interrupted. "Your name is Owen, isn't it? You look just like Owen Jesslaw, back home. I guess he's a squire right now." He scratched his head while trying to recollect his memory. He turned to the boy. "Well?"

The boy frowned. "Actually, my name is Neal."

Joren narrowed his eyes. "Oh, you're _kidding_ me…"

   [1]: mailto:silverwLng@aol.com



	24. A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 23

A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 23

By Sulia Serafine

[1-11-01. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

I'd also like to thank those who gave me help with the character descriptions. Your names will be in the "closing credits" of the new stories as soon as I do them. If anyone else want to help me, please e-mail me at [silverwLng@aol.com][1], okay? I'm finally getting around to working on my tiny website, and there's a new section for my Tortall stories. I'll tell you the address when I deem it worthy to be seen by you. Enjoy the chapter, I know you've been waiting for it! Please, tell me what you think.]

__

Now… now is the time…

No. No, stop it. I don't want this.

__

It doesn't matter whether you want it or not. We've talked about this. Everyone is depending on you.

I can't take this anymore! Stop it! I won't do it!

__

What will you tell her when she asks why you let the world die?

…I…I don't know.

__

Go now.

Keladry cried out as she abruptly awoke. She sat up and began to catch her fevered breath. She touched her face, and felt the sweat on her fingertips. Her sheets were damp. The young woman swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. The cold air against her moist skin made her shiver. She paced about her tiny room nervously, wondering what just happened.

"That was too real. Those voices were so familiar. It's like I know them by heart," she whispered to herself. She stopped in the middle of the floor and sank down to a sitting position. She leaned her chin on her palm while her elbow rested on her knee. "I don't get it. What did the voice refuse to do? Why doesn't he want to do whatever it is he has to do?"

She growled. "This is too confusing!" She plopped back down on her bed and shut her eyes. "Just go back to sleep. Everything will be fine."

"_I love my husband. But sometimes, it's not enough to save a person._"

With a stifled cry of frustration, she threw the quilt over her head and kicked at the wet blankets underneath. She was still sweating cold. "What's wrong with me? Why am I hearing this?"

She rose from her bed a second time and changed into some day clothes. A walk to clear her mind was what she needed. So, she crept out of her room and down the hall. One guard passed her in the hall, eyeing her suspiciously, but letting her continue on. She breezed past him without a care to the rest of the world. Her head didn't have the room for worldly cares.

It did have room to think of the fight raging on inside her. She never would have guessed five years ago that she could have so much emotion built up inside of her, waiting to be released.

"I guess that's what happens when you hide your feelings."

She leaned on a wall, tilting her head back. "It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be just fine."

She growled softly. "I really shouldn't lie to myself."

~~

Neal, the Owen-look-alike, and Joren sat down in the servants quarters. The former promptly offered the latter some meager bits of food saved from his meal. Joren mumbled a 'thanks' and ate it without feeling. Sensing that his thoughts were somewhere else, Neal tried to pull him back to reality.

"So, are you really going to help the Empress?" he asked. His enthusiastic expression was almost too good to be true. Since when did kind-minded enthusiasm exist in Mira?

Joren set down his cup of water. He smiled good-naturedly. The boy's attitude was infectious. "Yes. I don't have much of a choice."

"But, you _want_ to help, right?"

"Well," he began, "it's not always as easy as that. Every action has its repercussions." "Mental in my case," he added silently. Joren shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"Easy for you to say. You haven't lived here," Neal replied. "You come from some far off place, like the Empress said."

The young man tried not to laugh. It was ironic at most. "Oh, you'd be surprised where I've lived." He scratched his head. There was something more important that he wanted the young boy to answer for him. "Now, what can you tell me about the Emperor?"

There was an awkward pause before the youth could say anything. He wasn't sure of what to say. The Emperor had many faces and no one knew- save for his wife-- which was real. Neal lowered his gaze. "There's not much to tell. He's as stately as any noble is, but even more so as a king. And contrary to popular belief, he doesn't act violently. Well, I've never seen him violent." He looked up into Joren's eyes. "I'm not saying that he's not. But his Majesty is cool and collected. I've only seen a hint of warmth when he talks to my Empress."

He nodded. "I see." He studied Neal's face. "Do _you_ think I resemble him?"

"I guess. It would be very strange if you were related." He paused. "A jolly joke, you think?"

"Sure." Joren rolled his eyes. He suddenly became aware of the time. He nervously sat up straighter. "When am I to, uh, carry out my job? What time is it?"

Neal frowned. "You still have a good hour left before then. The Empress will excuse herself from the chambers to get a drink of water, and then--"

"I see."

"…Hey."

"Yes?"

"What's it like?"

Joren shook his head. "I don't understand. What's what like?"

"Being an assassin. I know it's an impolite question. Mother thinks I'm very rude, but my curiosity is eating me alive!" The younger boy clasped his hands together. There was an unmistakable look of adoration on his face. The Tortallian cursed under his breath.

"Don't start thinking that the life of any type of warrior is great because it's not. Not by a long shot," he growled and turned away. "If you'd only seen the things that I have, you would be grateful to the gods for your place here in this palace." He closed his eyes. "There are only so many things that a warrior does that are great-- to protect, to serve, to win. But the rest of it is terrible-- to kill, to show no mercy, to die. It's worse when you're a piece of scum like an assassin." He stifled a cry of frustration. "And even worse when you don't know the first thing about assassinating!" He stared at the younger man. "You think it's a big adventure? Like I said before, be grateful--"

Neal folded his arms. "I _am_ grateful. It isn't any of those things that I admire about people like you." In a softer tone, he said, "It's the fact that you-- as _one man_-- can change things. That's what I admire."

"One man? It rarely happens," he commented.

"But still," Neal protested. "It _has_ happened. You're going to do that tonight. You're going to change things by killing the Emperor."

Joren started to laugh. "I guess you're right." He lifted his cup. "A toast to murderers, eh?"

"But--" There was a look of absolute horror on his face.

"I'm kidding, Neal. Calm down."

~~

The defense crumbled.

"We're under attack!" a man screamed as the legions of Mira flooded into the palace. Men, women, and children fled inside while soldiers and knights fought. The Queen's Riders protected the people while they ran. The King's Own charged into the fight with great battle cries that echoed all around. 

Keladry drew her sword and thought back to a time not too long ago, when she lost her hope.

__

Swords clashed.

The fire-- Gods, how it burned. The heated air is filled with smoke…

And cries of death.

Soldiers. Miran soldiers. Why are they so bent on killing and conquering everyone?

Do they not know that sooner or later, someone would rise against them and destroy evil?

That's the way the story goes. Doesn't it always happen that way?

Blood. Fire. Smoke. There it goes again.

"Oh, Goddess. Please, not again."

"Kel!"

She turned around, searching the throngs of people with her eyes for the one who called her name. She spied Egavar waving from a window. "Get down, fool! You'll be shot with an arrow!"

"It doesn't matter! Kel, the portal in the sky is gone! It's closed!"

She whirled around and squinted. He was right. The black whole in the blue sky had disappeared without a trace. The portal was closed. She could have screamed her lungs out. There was no way to put the Mirans back where they belonged. It was either kill or be killed.

"Don't rush in," Egavar urged. "Not like last time. Joren would kill me if anything--" He couldn't see her anymore. He swore and ran down the hall.

~~

She was waiting for him at the end of the hall. In one hand was a candelabrum to light her way. She beckoned for him to approach, while glancing around her nervously. Her nightgown was a pale yellow, covered by a blue shawl that she must have worn to go down for the drink of water.

"I'm glad you came," she whispered.

"Where else would I be?" Joren retorted. His words made her wince. He refused to look at her, and stood with his arms folded across his chest. She gazed at him. Her pain was only beginning. It would be agony for the rest of her years. 

The Empress reached out with her empty hand to touch his cheek. He shook her off. "Joren, I know sorry will never be good enough. For all the things I've made you do to fix problems that aren't even yours." She sighed. "You need not worry about magic or weapons in our chambers. My husband is asleep." She paused and stifled a sob. "It… it will be easier that way. Please, forgive me."

"No."

She stared at him with watery eyes. Numbly, she nodded, and hurried down the hall and out of sight. Joren stood in the darkness, regretting his cruel response. 

"I forgive you," he whispered, and grasped the brass doorknob to the Emperor's room.

It was too quiet for comfort. Joren slowed his breathing, so he could hear everything around him, and closed the door gently. The room was large. Plush red rugs once again covered the floor. Fearing any trace of his presence, let alone footsteps, to be left behind, he rolled up the rugs and moved them aside. 

He advanced slowly to the canopied bed. He tied a black bandanna over the lower half of his face. He didn't know why. It was too dim to be seen. Still, he didn't take any chances. The moonlight entered through the glass window and shone through the gossamer bed curtains. 

"This isn't right," his mind repeatedly whispered. "I can't kill in cold blood. This man has not directly attacked me. His armies have, at his will, but that's still not enough excuse."

He froze. "I've really changed, haven't I? Guess I'm not so much the jerk as I thought."

Joren took his dagger from its sheath and reached forward with his other gloved hand to carefully pull back the bed curtain. He held his breath…

And let the curtain fall back into place. He backed away and scolded himself. "Don't stop now," he thought to himself. "You're this close to getting it over with. Think of the good this will bring. The Empire will fall. The forces will be divided without their mighty leader and all the countries of the world will be able to bring the remaining armies down. It's the beginning of peace."

He took a deep breath. "Peace achieved through murder. What a nice thought… No matter what you do, the fact is there. I'm killing a man in his sleep. It's murder. No matter how you try to justify it…" He slapped his forehead. "I can't get soft now! Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

The Emperor stirred. Joren gasped. Was he waking up?

No. He only turned his head toward the window. Joren raised his dagger up again. He walked back to the side of the bed with determination. There was only one thing left to do.

~~

"Kill them all!" a Miran captain screeched. Keladry turned just in time. She spun around as a soldier passed her and struck him in the back. Then she reversed and struck him again in the front. 

"Too many," she said under her breath as she dislodged her sword from the body. Keladry looked around quickly for her next opponent. 

And there he stood with a bloodied sword in his hands. He marked her with his dark eyes; silently challenging her amidst the battle that surrounded them. She accepted, and advanced swiftly toward him.

Their swords clashed. A strike from above, another from below. Each was either countered or dodged. Keladry deflected another attempt at her flank and spun around to catch him in the shoulder. Her muscles burned. His strength was overwhelming.

His expression did not change. It was as cold and lifeless as her mask and even colder because of the blood that smeared it. She jumped back, watching out for two men behind her that almost skewed her with their spears. She ran around another man, falling to the dirt. Her eyes searched for that cold man, that man whose face resembled her own.

"Ah!" she cried out as he caught her off guard. The blade bit into her thigh. She moved out of the way before she lost her leg and shifted her weight to her other foot. The man recoiled. He took a defensive stance, inviting her to try her luck again.

"Give up while you can!" she shouted uselessly at him. "I've shed enough blood today. You're too good a warrior to die for the Miran Empire!"

He smiled at her.

"The portal to your home is closed! Your fight is practically over!" she screamed with her hoarse voice. The sounds of the war nearly drowned out her voice. The man shook his head. He reached up and removed his helmet. Then he flung it away like trash. He lifted his hands and made a beckoning gesture. He wanted her to attack.

And who was she to disappoint?

As she neared, he lunged at her, almost forcing her down with his strength. She jerked away and struck quickly at his unprotected back. He spun around and countered. Keladry nearly lost her grip on her sword. 

"Damn you," she whispered. "Who _are_ you?"

He only continued to smile. He didn't even look winded from their fight. For the next few minutes, they danced their waltz of death among the bloodied battlefields. He never tired, and she never quit.

Just when Keladry thought it was over for her, he backed away, lowering his sword. Sweat poured down her face from the exertion of endurance.

"What? Why did you stop? Fight me!"

He shook his head, dodging other soldiers that dared to interrupt their unspoken area. Keladry grew angry.

"Why not? You refuse to stop when I ask you to, and now you stop when I don't want you to? Fight me, damn it! Come here!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Her soul seethed with fury. The war within herself and the war outside were making her go crazy. She needed to stop it, no matter what it took-- even her death.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she yelled, tears now glistening on her eyelashes. "Fight me! _Fight me_!"

The man, with his dark penetrating eyes, only looked at her and shook his head. He saluted her casually and sheathed his sword.

And then, another man impaled him upon a spear.

Keladry's eyes widened. She ran forward and watched the dark-eyed man fall, glaring at the young soldier who dared to interfere with her fight. She cursed again, her fury still not satisfied. She raced off to find another opponent to single out, all the while knowing it would not be as good as the man before.

The man, who despite all her provoking sentences, never spoke one word.

~~

Joren examined the facial features of the man he was to assassinate. His blonde hair and bone structure resembled his. And his skin even matched. Yes, the man who slept there was definitely his counterpart. His age was probably in the mid-thirties. Neal was right. He did appear to be cool and collected. 

"Get a grip, Joren. You can do this," he told himself, raising the dagger to eye level. "Do it before you lose your nerve."

It could be finished all in a matter of seconds. There was nothing to stop him but his fear. And his conscience. He breathed in sharply. He hesitated. But hesitating was enough for all of his courage to be lost.

Joren dropped the dagger. It made a loud sound as it hit the floor. The Emperor immediately awoke, sitting up as fast as he could. Joren stepped back, trying not to panic. 

"Who… who are you?" the Emperor whispered. He reached forward to tug down the black bandanna on his assailant's face. Joren did not move and allowed him to do so. When the cloth fell away, the older man gasped. He looked as if he were having a stroke. And then, he cried out, "Guards!"

The Emperor began chanting words of New Magic. When he found they had no affect on the young man, he called again for his guards. The woman was right. Joren was resistant to his own power.

Joren drew his sword. He sliced through the bed curtains. The Emperor rolled out of bed to the opposite side. He ran to the door. Still in a state of panic, Joren fumbled with his crossbow. He missed on purpose, only to intimidate the man from exiting the room. 

"You… you… I don't know who you are, but you'll die for this!"

Joren picked up a chair from the other side of the room and jammed it under the doorknob. The Emperor fled to his dresser, taking a knife from his drawer and holding it to defend himself.

"Please, don't make this any harder. I don't want to…" Joren pleaded, but the man screamed profanities at him. Joren steadied himself. He could hear the sounds of guards running down the hall. He turned and faced his enemy.

The sword flashing in the moonlight.

__

Fight me! **Fight me**!

The unmistakable look of fear.

__

What is **wrong** with you?

The blade connecting with tender flesh.

__

Your fight is practically over!

The blood splattering on his face.

__

I've shed enough blood today.

And the scream of the unwilling killer.

He dropped to his knees. Then, he dropped his sword. It made a lot of noise as it clattered onto the floor. The blood was already soaking in. He never took his eyes off the body. It held him hypnotized by its gruesome display. The glassy eyes looked at him blankly. The mouth was open, blood dribbling down the side of his chin. And yet, it wasn't he who screamed. He made a gagging sound as the sword plunged into his chest. And that was all.

"Oh, Mithros," Joren sobbed. "What have I done?"

He stared into the face of this shell of a man. The face so much like his own.

"My own death," he whispered. 

"He's barred the door!" a man shouted from outside the room. Joren stood up and ran to the window. He opened it and slipped out onto the large ledge that encompassed the royal wing. He spied a woman below. Her light brown hair wafted in the wind. 

"I'm… I'm sorry," Joren told the Empress. "He was not asleep."

The sad woman nodded. She mouthed one word. "_Go._"

Joren reached into his pouch. He withdrew the Truth Stone and gripped it tightly in his hand. "Labafrets, make a portal, send me home safely."

The palace guards burst through the doors. They immediately saw their mighty Emperor where he lay dead. The captain of the guard pointed at Joren. "Get him! He shall suffer!"

"Now!" he cried as he jumped out of the window, preparing to be dashed upon the ground below. He shut his eyes and threw his arms up over his head, unaware of the black hole beneath him.

~~

"We won," King Jonathan said to Thayet. She nodded, and hugged him.

"Those remaining have been taken prisoner," she confirmed. "And I hope we will be able to teach them the error of their ways." She gestured around. "The palace is mostly intact, but…"

"But there's work to be done. And lives to bid goodbye," the sapphire-eyed king said quietly and sighed. 

Elsewhere, Egavar was running around, hoping to find his friend. He called out to Keladry, and asked others if they'd seen her. No one had.

"This is not good… not good at all," he thought. "I _have_ to find her! She can't be dead. No, I won't believe it. She's too young to die!"

He leaned on a part of crumbling wall and ran his hand over his face. "I'm exhausted."

"I'd say you smell, too."

He blinked. "Eh?"

"Over here, Egavar."

He looked to his left. Keladry smirked at him. She was favoring her left leg. Blood stained her clothing and armor, but she paid it no heed. Instead, she walked to the Nodestrum and folded her arms. She looked at him accusingly. "Did you actually think I was dead?"

"N-no," Egavar stammered. He jumped up from his resting position and hugged her fiercely. "You brats always give me a heart attack, you know that?"

"Egavar…stop it. You're crushing my solar plexus."

He let go and grinned. "Sorry. But you see? It's over! It's all over!"

She nodded. "Yeah. I suppose it is."

"Is something wrong?"

She glared at him. "I thought you'd figured it out by now. There's _always_ something wrong."

He shrugged. "I know… but… you want to talk about it?"

"I thought you'd figured out that I don't like to talk either."

"Oops. Sorry, again." He laughed.

"Will you miss your forest?"

Egavar sighed. They started to walk back to the palace and find out the conditions of everything. "Well, I guess I will. I mean, my _fishing pole_ was there…"

"By the Gods, Egavar…"

"What? What did I say?"

"You may be forty looking like twenty-five, but I swear you are still a child," she drawled.

He laughed at his own expense. Keladry shook her head. "Go on. I'll meet you later."

"Okay. See you later!"

She watched him jog ahead. Then, she strayed off the path and sat down on a flat stone that was once apart of the main gate. She leaned her elbow on her knee and rested her chin on her palm. The sky was beautiful, she observed with wary eyes. Despite the war that raged on below for the last week or so, nature still retained its innocence. 

"Sunset," she whispered. The sky was orange and red, whilst the open clouds looked peach colored under the light of the setting sun. Keladry allowed herself to smile. "And so the sun sets on this battle," she thought. "And so sets the sun that is my anger. And my fight."

__

"Do I? I don't want love. I don't want peace of mind. I was born to fight. That's why we're here. We're never going home."

She closed her eyes. The fight was over. She had no reason to continue fighting. Her anger was spent. Owen had been avenged, through and through. Tortall was safe. She was home.

__

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes. Joren suddenly spoke, breaking the tranquil glass built around them like a hammer. "Hey, do you think we'll ever get home?"

"Don't say that. I hate it when say that," Keladry said in a heartbeat. She could have kicked herself for betraying her uneasiness.

"I've never said it to you before," he corrected in a nearly inaudible voice. She turned away. A pang of sorrow settled somewhere in his chest. He ignored the ache and stood up.

"I _am_ home," she said to no one in particular. "It _is_ over." She frowned. "Then why can't I stop feeling sad?"

~~

Author's Notes:

Yes, it is what you're thinking. I'm bringing A Life Less Ordinary to an end. But Fear Not! There is an epilogue (go, hurry!) and a brand new series that I will begin soon. It's not set in Tortall, but basically has everyone in an alternate universe. Mostly futuristic, but don't worry. I'll keep you entertained with a fresh new plot (well, I hope it's a fresh new plot…). Anyway, tell me what you think! All your reviews are much appreciated.

   [1]: mailto:silverwLng@aol.com



	25. A Life Less Ordinary: Epilogue

A Life Less Ordinary: Epilogue

By Sulia Serafine

[1-13-01. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.

Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!

I'd also like to thank those who gave me help with the character descriptions. Your names will be in the "closing credits" of the new stories as soon as I do them. If anyone else want to help me, please e-mail me at [silverwLng@aol.com][1], okay? I'm finally getting around to working on my tiny website, and there's a new section for my Tortall stories. I'll tell you the address when I deem it worthy to be seen by you. Enjoy the chapter, I know you've been waiting for it! Please, tell me what you think.]

A few weeks later.

He watched her walk down the forest path, heading back towards the rebuilt palace. She seemed lost in her thoughts, completely oblivious to the world around her. He realized she did that often whenever she walked by herself. And all the same, he couldn't help but wonder what it was that had her so absorbed.

He sneaked past her, through the thick foliage and was careful not to make a sound. 

Keladry sighed as she shoved her hands in her pockets and came out of her thoughts. It had been weeks since the end of the Miran war. She decided to start over. Lord Wyldon actually asked her to take the Test for knighthood since she'd more than proved her skill and discipline out on the battlefield. She obliged, not as entirely happy as she should have been.

"Wow, Kel. I must admit. You look like a wreck."

She blinked. "What?"

"I _said_, you look like a wreck. What, are you deaf now?"

She turned to her right and spotted the source of words. Joren lounged comfortably on a small boulder with a catlike grin plastered on his face. He stroked his chin, then ran his hand through his hair like he always did. "You know, I take it back. You don't look like a wreck. You look like a lump."

She gaped at him. "I can't believe you! Who do you think you are, coming back like this?"

"Hey, there's no law keeping me out. I am a citizen of this country," he shrugged and hopped down from the boulder. His confidence annoyed her.

"I didn't mean that. What do you want? I thought you were a mercenary now. Funny, you didn't bother to help us with the Mirans."

His grin disappeared. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Nothing. Look, can we talk?"

"Why? I thought you didn't want to be anywhere near me."

He grimaced. "I know, I know. I said a lot of things that I want to take back."

She stared at him with her now fierce hazel eyes. "Why do you want to take them back?"

He held up his hands. "Wait, wait. Just play along with me for a second, okay?" He reached into his belt pouch and took out a small ivory cat that looked as if it had been hastily glued together from many pieces. She recognized it, but wasn't so sure of his motives.

"What's this?" she looked at him suspiciously.

"Just play along for a second!" he smiled again and cleared his throat. "Repeat after me. My name is Joren."

She stared at him as any person stares at a lunatic. 

"Don't give me that look, lump! Just repeat after me. My name is Joren of Stone Mountain."

"Fine. I'll humor your pathetic self," she grumbled and took a deep breath. "My name is J…" She stopped. She took another breath and began again. "My name is J… Keladry." She lifted one eyebrow at him.

Joren started laughing. "Do you see?"

"See what?"

"You couldn't say my name as yours, could you?"

"No. So…" She frowned. Then it hit her. She gasped. "Dear Goddess, this isn't…"

He nodded excitedly. "Exactly."

"But how--" Before she could speak further, he held up his hand to shush her. Then he took the ivory cat from her and held it up to eye level. She folded her arms and continued to glare at him suspiciously. Joren was never this happy. She was convinced something terrible was going to happen. Maybe even a bucket full of glue and feathers.

Joren took her other hand in his. "I, Joren of Stone Mountain, do hereby swear from this day on to stay with Keladry of Mindelan no matter what happens-- through thick and thin, regardless of how many fights we have and how many times we say we regret our relationship. I also swear to try my best to let Keladry of Mindelan win every single fight we may ever have." He paused. "Oh! I almost forgot. I also swear that if a labafret ever crosses our paths again, that I will let Keladry of Mindelan have the first chance at revenge."

She couldn't help it. She smiled.

He put the cat back in his belt pouch and squeezed her hand. "So? What do you think of that?"

"I don't believe it."

"What?" he exclaimed. "How can you _not_ believe it? I was holding the Truth Stone!"

"It could be a spell you cast on me," she shrugged.

"I don't have the Gift!"

"Then someone with the Gift is out here hiding, working for you."

A few yards away, Egavar blanched. He had magic, and he was spying on them, but he was pretty sure he wasn't casting a spell on Keladry. He shook his head and ducked down further.

"Aww, come on! You know it's real!"

She nodded. "I know. I was just joking."

"The Yamani Lump? Joking?" Joren chuckled. "Now _that_ is unbelievable."

She elbowed him in the stomach. "Oh, shut up."

He caught her wrist in his hand and kissed her. She kissed him back, of course, oddly aware of how like a fairy tale it all was. He ended the kiss and looked at her again with that confident smirk of his.

Egavar couldn't contain his happiness. "They've really stopped fighting."

"Joren…" 

"Yes?"

"You really meant it."

"Yes!" he rolled his eyes. "I really meant it."

"Oh, well then…"

"Hmm?"

She punched him. Joren's head snapped to the side. He almost lost his footing. Keladry had a strong arm, he couldn't forget. He felt his sore jaw and stared at her. "FOR GODS' SAKE, WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

She folded her arms again and had a smirk of her own. "For being an asshole."

"What?!" 

Egavar closed his eyes. "I spoke too soon."

"You heard me! It took you _this_ long to come up to me and apologize?" Her hands now rested on her hips.

"At least I came back!" he shouted.

"Well, it couldn't have been longer, could it? I suppose you were just wandering around the countryside, huh?"

"Oh give me a break! And by the way, I'm not the only jerk here!"

"What are you calling me?"

"Oh, I'm not calling you anything but your name! LUMP!"

"Oh, why you insensitive…"

"Come on! Punch me again! I dare you!"

There was a clearly audible sound of fist on jaw.

"OW! I can't believe you punched me again!"

"You ASKED for it!"

"Mithros' shield! I don't suppose it's not too late to take back that oath, is it?"

"What!"

Egavar stood up and walked away. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"EGAVAR!"

He turned around and faced the couple. 

"Just _how long_ have you been eavesdropping?" Joren cracked his knuckles.

"I didn't think privacy was at a shortage here," Keladry glared.

Egavar's eye twitched. "Uh… I think I heard someone calling me! Bye!"

"No, come back here, Nodestrum!" Joren ran after him.

"Oh, you leave him alone, you jerk!" Keladry followed Joren.

"Me? Talk about you!"

"Oh, I'm so offended! I think I just might die all over again!"

"If you do, can I have your sword?"

"You never change, do you?"

"Well, neither do you." He stopped in his tracks and turned to her. "And I guess that's what keeps two lunatics like us together."

She took his offered hand. "I have to agree with you on that one."

"Good! Now, just don't punch me again…"

"I won't. Hey! Where's Egavar?"

Egavar grinned. "Ha! You can't catch me!"

"Oh, I think we will, Mr. I-Miss-My-Fishing-Pole!" Keladry called.

"You should talk, future wife of Sir Snores-a-Lot!"

"I DO NOT SNORE!"

~~

Author: What? * looks around* What? Stop looking at me like that! Did you actually think I was going to have a mushy ending? Keladry of Mindelan having a heartfelt scene with Joren of Stone Mountain? If you did, then you obviously don't know these characters. They'll argue forever. * grin*

Closing notes:

I'd like to thank everyone who has made my story a success. I'd especially like those who gave me feedback on ALLO. It makes me very happy to know that I have turned the least likely couple of Tortall into a popular one. This is all for you, people. 

Please check back regularly for my second Kel/Jor story, called "It Could Be Worse". As I've already mentioned, it's going to be an alternate universe, but the focus won't necessarily be our unlikely couple. (Yes, that means Neal, Roald, Cleon, Lalasa, Alanna, Daine, etc.) And it just might be as long as this series…

Sincerely,

Sulia Serafine

   [1]: mailto:silverwLng@aol.com



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